Consciousness passes from you after one last gasp for air.
You awake, but you find your body feels different, and the world about you is unfamiliar.
Stunned momentarily by the view, you stand staring at a realm seemingly infinite.
A world of mirrors, of reflections, of innermost selves.
A world of despair.
You come to a fork, one such as the many you have journeyed passed so often in the course of your existence. A crossroad of choices, leading to the unknown, choices which once are made are irreversible.
Having made the choice of path, forsaking the opportunity of another for this path, you journey to a turn in the path.
Thoughts race through your mind, what have you sacrificed for the choices you have ever made, as with the choice of the other path for this path.
Perhaps its all for naught.
A path straightforward, yet. Its destination unavoidable, confining you to its boundaries.
Be it for good or for the worst, its passengers are forced to accept it.
There is no choice, there is no hope.
A turn in the path. One unexpected yet expected, as turns are always there in paths. Turns unwanted, undesired that are to be obeyed, for stepping off the path leads to even worse destinations.
Why do all paths leads to emptiness, to despair? Why do all things in the end end in despair and emptiness?
It is because there is nothing. There is only despair at the end of the road.
She awaits you.
The tombs, resting place for which will soon rot to nothing. Thus it ends. And all comes here in its end. Amounting to nothing, only despair. You are blind. You see nothing. There are only feelings of direction and a sense of your surroundings. And there is nothing.
Life, often spoken off as sweet, kind, wonderous.
Yet how many living really open their eyes to see? To see the callousness, the misery, the pain and injustice of life. How many have the courage to have his eyes opened!
The despair of life itself.
Relationships, the causes of the many fronts we all have to invent and to wear at all times
The images that has to be precisely projected, least one becomes the laughing stock.
The pain and the utter humilation from a failed image.
True self is worst.
Family, they are but means of survival.
To a certain point in time. Then they transform and become parasites of your life, adding to the dismay that is already threatening to tear you apart.
The stories of love, great and romantic.
But, thats all they ever are and will be, mere stories, fairy tales to give false hopes, dreams to the foolish.
It plants the seed deep within each of its victims. When the time is ripe, it springs out in full bloom feeding on the pain and agony of love lost.
People, wolves in sheeps' clothings, all of them are.
Leeches that seeks out each and every opportunity to gain from one another no matter the price the other has to pay.
Misery, pain, even death of the other means nothing, only gains has a voice amongst people.
The purposes of gifts, momentor and token. They are there to remind the recipent that he or she owes the giver.
It is a boon, a demand, even a warning.
Gifts conveys all these messages.
The tale, complaint, woe that lies behind each gift. The thoughts, feelings, misery of the giver to wards the recipent.
The shout of anger, wrapped in beautiful ribbons, patiently waiting for the gains it expects for the gift.
Gifts being the deposit or trade of benefits.
All things, be material or immaterial, they crumble to dust one final day.
The chase, the effort, the sacrifices for such finite and limited society deemed neccessities, are they actually worth the pain?
Assets that we gather to ourselves over the years. Things both material and immaterial.
The time and effort, mental and physical energy, all spent in the rat race for assets.
Imagine the despair in failure, then imagine that despair you have given to so many who has failed in competition with you.
To have one who succeeds, there has to be a failure. Consider the failures you have forced down the throats of others to attain your own success!
The lives you have destroyed both conciously and unconciously.
The success you leeched off on the misery of others!
It shows nothing.
There is nothing.
They are nothing.
They prove nothing.
They amount to nothing.
They've given nothing.
It has nothing.
It leads to nothing.
Be surrounded by the despair that is real and has always been there.
Fall deep into Despair and relish in her embrace.
You awake, but you find your body feels different, and the world about you is unfamiliar.
Stunned momentarily by the view, you stand staring at a realm seemingly infinite.
A world of mirrors, of reflections, of innermost selves.
A world of despair.
You come to a fork, one such as the many you have journeyed passed so often in the course of your existence. A crossroad of choices, leading to the unknown, choices which once are made are irreversible.
Having made the choice of path, forsaking the opportunity of another for this path, you journey to a turn in the path.
Thoughts race through your mind, what have you sacrificed for the choices you have ever made, as with the choice of the other path for this path.
Perhaps its all for naught.
A path straightforward, yet. Its destination unavoidable, confining you to its boundaries.
Be it for good or for the worst, its passengers are forced to accept it.
There is no choice, there is no hope.
A turn in the path. One unexpected yet expected, as turns are always there in paths. Turns unwanted, undesired that are to be obeyed, for stepping off the path leads to even worse destinations.
Why do all paths leads to emptiness, to despair? Why do all things in the end end in despair and emptiness?
It is because there is nothing. There is only despair at the end of the road.
She awaits you.
The tombs, resting place for which will soon rot to nothing. Thus it ends. And all comes here in its end. Amounting to nothing, only despair. You are blind. You see nothing. There are only feelings of direction and a sense of your surroundings. And there is nothing.
Life, often spoken off as sweet, kind, wonderous.
Yet how many living really open their eyes to see? To see the callousness, the misery, the pain and injustice of life. How many have the courage to have his eyes opened!
The despair of life itself.
Relationships, the causes of the many fronts we all have to invent and to wear at all times
The images that has to be precisely projected, least one becomes the laughing stock.
The pain and the utter humilation from a failed image.
True self is worst.
Family, they are but means of survival.
To a certain point in time. Then they transform and become parasites of your life, adding to the dismay that is already threatening to tear you apart.
The stories of love, great and romantic.
But, thats all they ever are and will be, mere stories, fairy tales to give false hopes, dreams to the foolish.
It plants the seed deep within each of its victims. When the time is ripe, it springs out in full bloom feeding on the pain and agony of love lost.
People, wolves in sheeps' clothings, all of them are.
Leeches that seeks out each and every opportunity to gain from one another no matter the price the other has to pay.
Misery, pain, even death of the other means nothing, only gains has a voice amongst people.
The purposes of gifts, momentor and token. They are there to remind the recipent that he or she owes the giver.
It is a boon, a demand, even a warning.
Gifts conveys all these messages.
The tale, complaint, woe that lies behind each gift. The thoughts, feelings, misery of the giver to wards the recipent.
The shout of anger, wrapped in beautiful ribbons, patiently waiting for the gains it expects for the gift.
Gifts being the deposit or trade of benefits.
All things, be material or immaterial, they crumble to dust one final day.
The chase, the effort, the sacrifices for such finite and limited society deemed neccessities, are they actually worth the pain?
Assets that we gather to ourselves over the years. Things both material and immaterial.
The time and effort, mental and physical energy, all spent in the rat race for assets.
Imagine the despair in failure, then imagine that despair you have given to so many who has failed in competition with you.
To have one who succeeds, there has to be a failure. Consider the failures you have forced down the throats of others to attain your own success!
The lives you have destroyed both conciously and unconciously.
The success you leeched off on the misery of others!
It shows nothing.
There is nothing.
They are nothing.
They prove nothing.
They amount to nothing.
They've given nothing.
It has nothing.
It leads to nothing.
Be surrounded by the despair that is real and has always been there.
Fall deep into Despair and relish in her embrace.
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