One day you might wake up and just find yourself chopped in a half on the window of a crashed bus with your guts and insides open to the very fresh air.
The more you know and realise the putrid and visceral tough reality of death, the more scarier life gets now on and the less romanticized life and your life purpose plotline gets.
You may get inspired and you might also encourage masses of people with a discourse that they just can't refuse. A discourse about all and everything they ever wanted to believe - desperately. Just believing in something bigger than the human kind.
Life's sweet childish illusions are the only things that make it bearable. Because when existence loses meaning and questions lack answers, it seems nearly unhurtful and harmless - to just believe in fairies.
It's better to die believing in something unreal, yet that you can feel - than to die in the cold lonely arms of an overpriced coffin and a paid grave where you can rot in peace seven feet below.
Life loses its meaning, and then your fantasies gain one. It's your second shot to be happy. Even if it is a fantasy - an unapologetic illusion. Set up to the tricks of destiny: failure or ascension.
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet whispers to the dead and the living.
Short StoryChronicles and reflections over the antagonism of life. How acid, bitter, yet how genuine and sweet it might be. Insights of an old soul. This is me, nice to meet you. I believe you'll meet yourself somewhere along these stories too.
