Now Playing Tracks

Why do others believe the answers are so simple? They believe the words have been put right down in front of them for the meaning of us. Is it so simple? Is faith the epitome of our reason to live? Am I trying too hard to look at the big picture? Is the cycle of humanity a big punch line or an apocalypse? Maybe there isn’t a real reason at all. Where is the value in what we do? The realm of ethics only exists to us. Sometimes I wonder if criminals are the ones who have ascended. Maybe if we throw out our idea of religious philosophies we may find our true selves.

            I hold onto my beliefs out of fear. I’m scared that I’m insignificant. I feel like I’m running past a logical perception in search of one that fits my imagination. Is my struggle pointless? My words fall on deaf ears. My writings are thrown into the pile of refrigerator paintings from grade school. So why do I fight the world? Why does my confusion give me a sense of  existence? Maybe we all just like to play the main character in stories about different worlds. The answers flow to us through the small doorway inside our cell. Then we paste the pictures to the wall and give them names. Sadly for me my walls are made of paper and my pictures tear holes in them. 

To Tumblr, Love Pixel Union