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Rated: E · Other · Experience · #1687635
This is something I wrote a while back, just as something to do.
Life is such a subjective term. It's either meaningless, or full of purpose. Enjoyable, or miserable. It can never just be. It always has something attached to it. Everyone has a different take on life, but everyone say the same thing about it. They say that life sucks. And it does, but it all depends on how you choose to live yours. I've lived mine in a number of ways. And looking onto this insight, I realize, my life, like countless others, has no purpose. I've lived to please, and lived to find myself. But myself in my true form is nothing. I'm just an empty shell. I watch myself make the mistakes I think I would never have made on my own terms. If I was living my own life. That it's someone else making the decisions,and I control nothing. But that's not how it is, it's just how I like to see it. I control myself, but the way I do control myself is in such a way, that I don't think. Not in the way I should. I think differently. I do fit in, but only by hiding. I can only fit in among other people when I cover myself up, and avoid silence when I just sit and watch things with my artist's stare. Taking everything in with detailed perception, everything so crisp and clear. When you pick at everything, and break it down, life is nothing. We're nothing. But we like to forget that, and just be. We like to feel happiness, and expirience things, and just cease to think about life, or how to live. I've always thought about it. Ever since I was little. I would think that I'm alive, but yet I don't feel alive. What does alive even mean? Does it mean to be living and healthy, or does it mean to forget. Does it mean to go from day to day, without slowing down to think about life in its true form? Or to feel bliss and just be able to feel. What does it mean? The definition can be pinned down to one thing, but has so many variations, it's insane. For you can never be truly sure if you're seeing things right, or knowing the past as it is. Memories can be corrupted, a feeling of what you wish had happened, but you thought really happened. Or a dream even. We often mistake dreams with reality. And reality is no more than a dream. How do you know we aren't living in a dream? People say, you just know. But you can never be truly sure. And though we can try to forget the meaningless of it all, we can never truly let go. It'll always be burning in the back of our minds, calling to us like a box you can't open, or a person you can never love. It's just there, and that's all you have to accept.
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