Are we more than what has to offer on this incomprehensible life? More so that we tend to isolate to others if we are bounded. Do we even make anything more profound nowadays? The closer those thoughts are, the more we are confined by the chains of reality. We are no longer living, we are just merely taking steps on the soil, as we poison the depths of the lands and the rivers itself.
What a troublesome mind, do we even have something to forsake into? No, we are merely prisoners of these indulgence, we cannot even comprehend ourselves in the mirror anymore. Hopeless kids in an evolved form, no shell to be found, naked, and a half wit. Very depressing. Each expand of the diaphragm is a waste, contributing to the heat waves, or perhaps even El Niño can be our salvation?
We gave too much meaning and we pass it, we may even do it through our selfishness, what a joke. Sacrificing but ending up sleeping 6 feet under the rubble for just the others to rack up what you left behind, isn't it very unfair? you did what you had to be responsible but what even makes it your responsibility?
Alas, we are nothing but a side effect of stardust, we grieve for a purpose that even nothingness of our final hour, a pitch dark fin of forever slumber, we grab stones and lit a fire that warms up on each passing time. We grab to ourselves and seek these definitions, in which we gave names to, and try to find comfort within the times of unprecedented timelines.