𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

we run after what destroys us.
we idolize it.
we romanticize it.
we've got ourselves addicted to destruction, inflicted by our own hands.
but tell me, would we be this way if we didn't have some desire to survive, to live?