Random Thoughts Of Another Person

Deja vu, the typo of the world

Paranoia for another day...I'll take a cup of logic in hopes of being realistic...for your sake.
When thinking about deja-vu, I tend to overlook it, thinking that its mostly a coincidence, but sometimes moments just click, and I cant help but think of the situation as a replica of an older time period.It feels exactly the same, and for some reason, it turns out the same, even if I change something I say or do.It freaks me out sometimes, especialy if its a recent memory, and when I try to explain it to someone, they shrug it off and continue on, turning a blind eye to what just hapened.Its not like im crying out for someone to understand the feeling, but I just want someone to take it a little more seriously, to actually care.Its really unproportionate to compare deja vu to a threat, but it somehow feels like it.Theres so many things to think about, and a layer of a past memory thats an exact replica...just doesnt seem right, doesnt seem logical.
I wonder how my life ends up in these predicaments, but I guess its just me.Thinking of this worlds ways, its definitely possible, and yet, not.
Its as if the world had a typo in writing my life story, and accidentally rewrote the same sentence.Its visible and there, but you skim over the extra line knowing its just the same thing...,less words for you to read if you skip it...but less of my life spent on anything that would make me smile.A book of my life, written automaticly as I live on, and running out of ink slowly as the words become frail, and soon cut off to my death, the time when the books predetermined amount of ink runs out, ending me.Such a shame, to look at a finnished book and all of there precious moments and memories, to think that I spent a few words on that revised memory, moments I could have used before my death.
But, thats fine.
Deja -vu is just the worlds mistake, and is a fearful reminder of my past and future.Fear of the illogical ways of the world, and the possibility of other moments to come.Too bad my life is enscribed in ink and not pencil.If not for ink, I would erase so many moments, maybe even erase the beginning of my story, so I could live in peace, knowing that I have no regrets and that I could fix the typos in my life that werent meant to be.
Erase the pain of the world, so I could have a happy ending.