Life.

Life is a series of interacting, interchanging events that are overanalysed to the point of death. We blur, dissect or straight up change significant events to hide away from the pain, or view everything in hindsight, as if it was along time ago.

Realistically we only live 25, 000 days. Not so long once you really thing about it.

I view my life with a strict disciplined sense of objectivity. I view the phases of my life as a stepping stone to the end person I will have morphed into when the end comes. But whenever I look back, all I see is fucked up moments where I have brought myself into a hole, and im trying to use my hands as stepping stone’s, but really I’m just clawing at dirt.

My disease, the rollercoaster it is. It’s a gift and a curse.  Narcissistic or not, I am different. I am altered. I am a duality of an internal conflict that is suppressed by so many.

Hedonism, or Culture? Running away from our animal instincts. What are we doing it for? Just because we have these clothes, this consciousness, which was a complete evolutionary accident, why do we try to run away from what’s inside of us? 

We’re all just pretentious monkey’s that got out of hand.