Have you ever wanted to write so badly but never managed to come up with something decent because you have so much things to write that you don’t know what to write?
And before you finally manage to settle your fingers down on something concrete you hesitate because your grammar and sentence structure turns out like shit.
Procrastination and laziness eats into you and your brain turns into gel and stops functioning completely, and you ask yourself why do I even exist.
For the simple fact that you’re meant to do something meaningful before you go. For the simple fact that one day your ordinary life will turn slightly extraordinary for the simple ideas that you suddenly generate and achieved success to some extents. For the moments in life that changed you, a new passion discovered, a new friend, a stable lover you thought you’d never meet. Your changing opinions, your brand new experiences, the unexpected surprises and life’s ever changing constant.
And maybe it’s all meant to be unknown in the know. And maybe your fate is destined like a show. One day, you’ll join the dots and realize that everything you’ve done intentionally or not, clicks into place and shapes you. Every little action, every twitch of the thumb screams for an upcoming event. If you stopped breathing, make sure you’ve done everything you wanted to.
It’s tragic how accidents take lives away like it didn’t matter. Unforgivable mistakes still has to be forgiven because nothing can change the happening. Even death sentences are just equivalent to taking another life away with the concept of give and take. Life does not at all times make sense, but when it does it’s pretty great.
Or at least, that’s how everyone hopes to believe in.
But I know that in the end, we’ll all wither.
; 