irnie
life is a dance floor
A realist’s pessimistic reverie:
Little things in life nudge you on to realise bigger things, much bigger things. Like how we think we are the same and our lives parallel, yet we are worlds apart. We are what our surroundings create us to be and heck knows our surroundings are different.
People in your life are not consistent. They come, they go, sometimes they linger for a while like butterflies. But as painful as it is for a child to watch a pretty one fly away, it is to let people go. Sometimes it’s for the best. Sometimes it’s too hard to not do. They say there’s comfort in consistency. I guess that’s why life isn’t very comfortable.
Nothing in this world was made to last. Not life, not relationships, not emotions. So should we live as though nothing will outlast us? Or as though everything will outlast us? Which is safer of the two?
“Fuck love”. There’s nothing out there proving that it is real. There are no facts to back it up. Is that because it is an emotion and there are never any proofs emotions? Or because it’s something you can’t pin down? Or is it because it is an impure substance? One that creates you and destroys you.
There are many things we should and shouldn’t do. That is what society dictates to us. So what constitutes really living? I think it’s a life free of suffocation. One where you can jump off a cliff and fly. One where you can believe you can jump off a cliff and finally free yourself from the suffocations of life and just fly.
Little things in life nudge you on to realise bigger things, much bigger things. Like how we think we are the same and our lives parallel, yet we are worlds apart. We are what our surroundings create us to be and heck knows our surroundings are different.
People in your life are not consistent. They come, they go, sometimes they linger for a while like butterflies. But as painful as it is for a child to watch a pretty one fly away, it is to let people go. Sometimes it’s for the best. Sometimes it’s too hard to not do. They say there’s comfort in consistency. I guess that’s why life isn’t very comfortable.
Nothing in this world was made to last. Not life, not relationships, not emotions. So should we live as though nothing will outlast us? Or as though everything will outlast us? Which is safer of the two?
“Fuck love”. There’s nothing out there proving that it is real. There are no facts to back it up. Is that because it is an emotion and there are never any proofs emotions? Or because it’s something you can’t pin down? Or is it because it is an impure substance? One that creates you and destroys you.
There are many things we should and shouldn’t do. That is what society dictates to us. So what constitutes really living? I think it’s a life free of suffocation. One where you can jump off a cliff and fly. One where you can believe you can jump off a cliff and finally free yourself from the suffocations of life and just fly.
