Time. Oh the time we spend. how are we so blind to what we cannot find in our mind. the army of hours that showers upon us in the frigged cold of our lives, making us bold, pushing us till we fold and turn old. we crave for pursuit of the fruits of knowledge, a chase pushing us towards the ledge of sanity, to face our inner truth and accept the regret of daily frets, our failed bets, while just trying to keep pace. Why cant i brake this fake thing called real, why cant i heal the danger of anger and bring an end to the sting of being.
Ugh, sorry for the small rant. Just thinking a lot. well, i have gone through a new pass, trying to find all the paths. I am still trying i guess is the problem. while one is trying they are not succeeding, but then again to finally stop is to die. Maybe we only find our death within accomplishment, with an end. we wish for an end, we don't want death, we love life, we don't like process... Back and forth, hot and cold (lol, two songs...good but still) anyway, it is just seemingly falling within the perpetuam (I made up that word but whatever, it is the only word for what i am speaking about.) So that is all i have to say for now.