Living is what it means. Something in itself.It takes more than critique to live. You may say you know it all, but you don’t understand what you’ve said. Watching life from some ”God’s eye” will give you no real joys or sorrows.
For who can be sure about everything? Or say, anything. Yet life carries on. Is it more ridiculous to say what we’ve been through is real, or is it the opposite?
You’d still prefer an invulnerable life, though it attacks at night. You’d still stay calm and detached yet you know you can never again.
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