segunda-feira, 6 de julho de 2015

Somos o que sempre fomos e o que nos enganamos ser. Farsas absolutamente convencidas do "muito mais do que". Não fosse a fuga, o fim. Ainda assim: engana. Sofrimento banal.

14/07 - Good thing we die. Life suffering would not be bearable if not by the existence of death. Nevertheless, as we do what we do because of our endlessness and meaninglessness it would not be possible to conceive what life without death would/could be. It might be that everything we have conceived up to now is nothing but our misunderstanding of what we could have been if not for death that everything we put into this world is error and ignorance not by themselves but by our own error. Our errors that come out of a flawed logic system that is but a reflection of every previous aspect - as for what I have commented so far - of what we are. Good thing we live, therefore it is possible to wonder, and to dream overnight knowing that we are about to find out the absolute form of everything, the form which has already been found out by those who died. Language lacks expression. What a useless strive to wonder. What a waste to be. Let it be, though. For no reason.

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