Right now, I conjecture that I have only a little air inside my lungs. I don’t know when the brief underwater swimming session, which you may call life and interaction, turned out to be a descent into the dark bottom. Sinking deep in the crystal clear water, I can see the yellow radiating point on the surface of it. The warm light scattered through transparent atoms is the hope dying slowly. However, I don't find any relation between hope and me. Besides that, the calmness has built a guarding wall between overthinking and me, and it hinders me from feeling anxious about myself and the complex world.
I'm riding an abruptly vibrating string that teaches me “100 ways to die and not to worry about my life”. Thus, now, I desire to be entangled with unpredictable, unexpected, and unusual events so badly. I think I'm losing my mind, although I'm least concerned about it. I don't have any plans.
I'm riding an abruptly vibrating string that teaches me “100 ways to die and not to worry about my life”. Thus, now, I desire to be entangled with unpredictable, unexpected, and unusual events so badly. I think I'm losing my mind, although I'm least concerned about it. I don't have any plans.
The old rusted watch around my wrist says, "The time is NOW. Your losing yourself is an attempt (drowning) to run away from the monotonous reality and the anxious future." I have a very few patterns in the surroundings; thus, I don't see many changes. Now time is moving like a snail.
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