And I shouldn’t pursue that matter anymore.
Life goes on no matter what happens (unless you die, of course).
I am young, I am strong, I am independent.
That’s all I need to conquer this screwed up dimension called life.
Me, myself and I.
These are the only reliable, trustworthy and empathetic resources that I have.
One only begins to realize that life is a lonely journey when one hits a rough wave and no one hears you screaming or offers you help.
Yes. That is life.
Created to throw you around and break your bones.
Once battered and wrinkled, most likely coupled with dementia, life decides that you look pitiful enough.
Life then leaves.