Scratch

So a story begins to eventually end... What’s more tragic than that, right? But it seems all these contextually humane activities have no regards for such reality. I mean, we just wake up, eat, do some insignificant crap, sleep then repeat the same shit the following day - or days for that matter. What happens when we confine ourselves to such routine? It doesn’t pretty much take us to any enlightenment as to the whole essence of existing, but we don’t really have to risk anything by sticking to it. I mean it’s safer that way - conforming to norms as they gradually change. We move so often with the crowd that we forget ourselves - the person we really are, that we hardly note the fact that we have limited life span to make the most out of.

Sometimes it’s hard to fathom things beyond how they actually are. When someone tells you you’re pretty, you wonder whether that’s a superficial judgment or some rhetorical approach goes with that. It’s the same as life giving the same crap over and over yet we wonder whether there is good coming from all frustrations life has offered, which we universally consent to.

It’s okay.

Whenever you feel like the odd one out since you’re always spaced out.

It’s okay.

Maybe he doesn’t really care as much as you do. Sooner or later, you gotta accept that.

It’s okay.

You’re still young. There’s still much to aspire for and achieve.

It’s okay.

You’re not sad. You’re just lonely. You could be happy as a recluse.

It’s okay.

It is. It’s gonna be. Just think it will. Eventually you’ll chant this whenever you’re upset.