Why do we even try to live?
You know.
You know that later on you'll be nothing but bones and disgusting decomposed flesh.
Another unknown name in the sea of other unfamiliar faces.
The sun would eventually blow up or something anyways. The world will burn, and you can do nothing to stop it. You can watch your great-great-great-great grandchildren scream in agony as they turn into nothing but ashes from hell. You can see their ashes blowing in the wind, like all others. Just another stupid thing called "destiny" grabbing their life and ripping it from their bodies like a greedy child gobbling down candy.
Why do we make ourselves suffer?
