String of Thoughts

At the start, the idea of living does not penetrate in our minds. We didn't mind it, not at all. Oblivious as we were before, humans exist to fill the world with just breathing mortals but as we moved through the sane phases of our lives, we build  up the curiosity and anxiety to discover greater things beyond what our eyes can see.


*breathe*


When all things turn into a blur, nothing and no one could simply understand why the heck of a hell you do things you should not be doing; all you have to do is to take a deep breath. It would not simply go but it's just a minuscule way of reminding yourself that you are still breathing and existing. And that is too much of whim to worry about stupid craps that are happening on your life.
It's just so good to have my thoughts and ideas be transferred and be weaved into words. It's a plain rambling and ranting but of course with a taint of limitation. A thin line between private things and the world of chaotic dramas and admiration still subsists and continue to linger.


*breathe*


Knowing too much is scary just the same as knowing only certain information, you tend to be clouded by visible illusions or worse you can be doomed by the crucial information. So where do you think we should stay in the middle of perplexity and distraught? We, people, usually just ignore things so to live without a doubt that you're doubting each and every possibility.
Remember that complications are almost often worse than the root of the disease.It saturates the whole system into a dead-like mind that gradually fluctuates and then die.


*breathe*


If to put the weight on something that does not deserve such violent or sweet treatment, would you bother to give them the idea of wanting them to stay right where they were standing? Or would you prefer to let them feel the indifference that circles the depth of the relationship you have towards that person?
Honesty puts us into controversy that neither one's self nor  the person of his affection could fathom as instant like the way the hand of a clock tick-tack its way through a minute.


*breathe*


Difficult as it is, we struggle to live for the slightest idea that we will soon die. The actuality is that we are doomed to live our life up to our limit.


*terminated*


Ciao.