It seems like every moment is pushing towards something, being bent around or not.
I fear nothing like I fear becoming circular in my actions. Skills adding upon skills, learning upon learning.
In the end, everything we do as humans depends on what we create, whatever arena or field that may be in.
As much as you may read, as much as you may know, it serves no purpose beyond idle enjoyment if you don’t create.
It is why as my mind fills with blood and suffocation, I keep pushing forward, I have no desire or belief in giving up. That never seems to result in anything, but a delay and empty space of time in my life.
I seem to have a deep knowledge and insight into what variables create a “good” life, but yet as I stare further into that path, I’m left still and timeless in my choosing.
I put these ideas out for others to learn from, but it feels like another distraction, another waste of time.
Nothing in this world feels as empty as wasting time.