Croissant Mind

I am offcially a mad man and i am ready to explode in 3-2-1 but i think i don’t have enough fuel because i should’ve exploded months before but i didn’t. I don’t know if i should be thankful or not, because sometimes i just want to explode, literally. Then my pieces would fly away to places i have never been, and experience things i have never experienced, and feel the feelings i have never felt before. And maybe, that way, i could be whole. But shit we live in a world of logic where, of course, i can’t. Well, maybe i actually can but i just don’t know how to?

Some days i just wish i’d become the The Ground. Because The Ground stays humble down there no matter how many lives lean on it. The Ground comes up only once in a while in a form of pertrichor after the rain, and it calms down people’s hearts. The question “Why Am I A Human?” haunts me as often as i lay myself on the bed and that means almost 15/24 hours. Why not, Grass, Air, Fire, Moon, Planet, Sun, Wood, Asteroid, Black Hole, Hair on someone’s head, Lungs inside someone’s body, Bones under someone’s skin, Gasoline, Natrium, Platinum, Gold, Money, or anything, other than this pathetic and greedy form? Years before, i wish i could be the queen of antartics or Kim Kadarshian. Kim Kadarshian gets paid for being just alive, shit is it just the world being stupid or is she actually plain amazing? In fact, i just know her from 9gag and i heard that she plays in a drama serial Keeping Up With The Kadarshians. I played the game Kadarshians once but i stopped because the game only revolves around shopping-flirting-working-repeat.

And on earth am i talking about Kim Kadarshian anyway?!

Being alive as a human is not as easy as quotes on Tumblr and teenage feelings, apparently. Living as a human, in fact, means that we’re trapped in this illogical three dimensions kind of world where we constantly find ourselves gasping for air once in a while because too many stereotypes and greediness in one cubical meter, and, where we, try to ignore the fact that we are all limited by time. All that we should do is probably to seeking the little children inside of us to make us stay alive inside. Because children, no matter how immature they seem, they would always find a way to be grateful in a world of endless un-answer-able questions they live in, by simply looking at the window and laugh at the clouds that keep changing its shape.

I keep questioning things i know i could never answer, and waiting for something i know wouldn’t come up, and listening voices that are no longer exist, and imagining nothing, and feeling nothing, and wanting nothing. I know this is not the positive nothingness the Buddha and Sufis are talking about, but yet i just still don’t give a single damn. 

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