What are we besides a puddle of social conditions and stimuli? what is it that makes us actually us? do we find things sexy because they really are or we are conditioned to think so....been in a contemplative mood lately. pensive as hell, thoughts meandering on the mindless terrain of obsession.
i want to create something real. i want to feel this way forever. i keep sliding back to the memories, back and forth, good and bad and remembering what could be.....
sometimes you just wonder
what
it
really
is
the
fact
that
we
are
all
here
and
doing
what
is
the
point
i
mean
really
think
really
think
for you
your
yourself
think for yourself
can
we
even
do that
i am
i am not
i am not sure.
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