The irony of life

The sun shines an eternity of flame but that masks its true hunger for freedom. Sometimes life makes me feel just like that when I am burnt out (no pun intended), living at the expense of death, cheering on the many crumbs that could afford the truth. Yet no less than half of as much lies would cheer a falling apple.

And not a single one of those truths/lies could afford longevity. That is what I crave, but there is only so much of truths which sustain, and fragility of the moment's solitude never seem enough to justify the failure to justify. An act of defiance with a little bit of courage will seek out the valor, but the timid me refused to move.

Then I feel as though the sun has just expended itself, and died, and withered away. Masquerading fears seems to extol the life in me, and them spending all my energy worrying on something that does not exist, made them proud. Only the persistent immaculate being would persist, and wrongly persuade me of an otherwise uneventful setting.

Life is a bitch sometimes, and I am not much better either.

Oh the irony of life.

When you seem to know what you want, you cease to care if that's what you need. Then it seems like you do not need it anymore.

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