Staring into the distance from these huge windows feeling slightly chilly on this rainy day, with goosebumps beginning to appear on my hands, I'm asked if I'd like some coffee ?
Who doesn't want to look all dramatically pretentious looking at the rain with a cup of coffee and thinking about life ?
So today my topic to apparently think deeply on would be, 'what would life be like if life wasn't the life I was leading ?
I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't making sense.
What if life was something else ?
Maybe something cooler or darker or maybe cooler and darker at the same time.
Here's where we pretend to not be satisfied with the life we lead or else how would we look into other options.
I burn my lip and think about the impracticality of sipping this stupid hot coffee. Yes, I'm blaming the coffee and calling it stupid.
Also just FYI, my brain is a wanderer. And it randomly takes a stop on me wondering,
What advantage does being practical always and thinking from the head have, over acquiring the impulsive happiness following your heart was supposed to bring ?
Would practicality and impulsiveness ever shake hands to friendship ?
What about the apparent freedom I might find in a nomadic life if I nurture the seed of impulsiveness with caring a little less and letting go ?
Or rather be an obedient mistress to practicality which shoved reality checks down my throat and be a happy whore to stability ?
Practicality was just too convincing, man. Its making me greedy with the bribe of victory touching my feet .
Chuck it. I'll just toss greed into the trash can, like it was as easy as it was to say, and go sleep beside tranquillity brushing my hair taking me into a satisfied, peaceful oblivion. I think it was drugging me.
Where am I ? Where was I again ?
I close my eyes but my brain isn't ready to cooperate. We go back to thinking about the adrenaline rush of seeing the unpredictability of life unfold. It's like a new life being born out of the previous one. Exciting stuff.
Damn you, brain. Don't make me cheat on tranquillity and be a shitty ex.
Have I gone too far and gotten too carried away by rains and coffee ?
Wait, can I just blow everything to smithereens and have the best of both worlds ? Pretty please.
I think I might have misused my privilege of even having a brain to imagine the lives I didn't lead or a combination of the best ones I could think of.
So, will contentment ever show up on my door one day and give me a tight hug that fills my heart to the brim,
Or
Will I just have to make peace with the fact that the grass was green on my side too but maybe, just maybe, on the other side it'll always be fresher with crystal looking dew drops ?
Who doesn't want to look all dramatically pretentious looking at the rain with a cup of coffee and thinking about life ?
So today my topic to apparently think deeply on would be, 'what would life be like if life wasn't the life I was leading ?
I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't making sense.
What if life was something else ?
Maybe something cooler or darker or maybe cooler and darker at the same time.
Here's where we pretend to not be satisfied with the life we lead or else how would we look into other options.
I burn my lip and think about the impracticality of sipping this stupid hot coffee. Yes, I'm blaming the coffee and calling it stupid.
Also just FYI, my brain is a wanderer. And it randomly takes a stop on me wondering,
What advantage does being practical always and thinking from the head have, over acquiring the impulsive happiness following your heart was supposed to bring ?
Would practicality and impulsiveness ever shake hands to friendship ?
What about the apparent freedom I might find in a nomadic life if I nurture the seed of impulsiveness with caring a little less and letting go ?
Or rather be an obedient mistress to practicality which shoved reality checks down my throat and be a happy whore to stability ?
Practicality was just too convincing, man. Its making me greedy with the bribe of victory touching my feet .
Chuck it. I'll just toss greed into the trash can, like it was as easy as it was to say, and go sleep beside tranquillity brushing my hair taking me into a satisfied, peaceful oblivion. I think it was drugging me.
Where am I ? Where was I again ?
I close my eyes but my brain isn't ready to cooperate. We go back to thinking about the adrenaline rush of seeing the unpredictability of life unfold. It's like a new life being born out of the previous one. Exciting stuff.
Damn you, brain. Don't make me cheat on tranquillity and be a shitty ex.
Have I gone too far and gotten too carried away by rains and coffee ?
Wait, can I just blow everything to smithereens and have the best of both worlds ? Pretty please.
I think I might have misused my privilege of even having a brain to imagine the lives I didn't lead or a combination of the best ones I could think of.
So, will contentment ever show up on my door one day and give me a tight hug that fills my heart to the brim,
Or
Will I just have to make peace with the fact that the grass was green on my side too but maybe, just maybe, on the other side it'll always be fresher with crystal looking dew drops ?
