In a world where everything is perfect, it feels fake. In a world where nothing matters, it feels wrong.
Where the fuck do we belong?
People cut themselves to feel better. People cry, scream, burn. All to make it feel better.
People get lost in dreams and ideals of a perfect world. Of a world that is fluffy, and pink and bunnies are the only animal that runs untamed in the wilderness.
And yet, it doesn’t matter. Life ends. Happiness ends. Lies are revealed and nothing is perfect. Everything has an end.
There are two things no human being will ever witness with his own two eyes, the beginning and the end.
No person ever sees his beginning, and no person can predict his end. And what’s in the middle?
It’s scary, how it seems not to matter. I look around, people laughing, children running around, parents walking, talking, smiling.
One feeling comes to mind. Yet no memory to reflect it.
How is it that we exist with no purpose. Where does on go to get one? How can so many ignore it?
And yet again, depression is bestowed upon me. No real feelings come to mind again, although, it’s not unusual for me, not at all.
Strange, how so many people exist, existed, lived, are alive and yet no one knows how to cure this damn thing. I have never asked for these thoughts but when they come, they refuse to go away.
Meaning? There’s none.
בבלוג זה
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