Why?

 

 The base to a philosophical inquisition: why? This is how science exists. Without questions there would be a sense of devoid. Now I want to drift into a melancholic state of distraught and pull over a blanket of uncanny inquiries. I laugh, no, I slaughter when asked "why do we exist?" Sure, from a biological stand point we are merely a reproductive specie happily passing on a part of us. But this explanation just doesn't satisfy our irrational side, part that seeks immediate pleasure; instant derangement. Art is a prescription to creating beautiful ugly things. Maps. We are full of them. Yet here I write the fragments of me me me and thousands of me. All part of this enormous organism. And the other **** that comes with it, i imagine God! 

I don't consider myself having dissociative personalities but when I first learn about this disorder I understood immediately what the label suggested: a facade. In my case, many facades which I tend to adhere over time encompassing ideologies and people who I'd look up to, or such role models of others' liking. Again unconsciously I'd become unaware of these contagions spilling out of me, naturally like a anorexic elephant having a barf attack. I guess this is what we've...

Do mind that when you wake up every day in the morning (or anytime) to smile. Smile because you exist. There's no reason, no purpose, no obligations, but oh does it feel good. 

"I wanna know who the ffff would think that this is my turf and clumsiness is not allowed! I'm not you. You're not me. I love you. You love to hate me. **** outta here!" xD 

I'm delaying this in order to put some order into my existence by lightning this cylindrical blissfulness. again XD 

grimoteph grimoteph
22-25, M
Feb 7, 2010