Pressure. What if life were a movie.. movies have meaning. The scenes are important and they contribute to something larger. Characters are a real part of what happens. The viewer is engaged in a plot of important or even unimportant events that seem important and, in a way, are. Why isn't life this way? Life seems so menial and pale in comparison. Oftentimes, things seem to not work out rather than to work out.
The daily in-and-out grind of drudgery fitted quaintly into some kind of framework that supposed to make it good and beneficial for its participants. That this is what we are to learn and master in order to become. My mind contests the thought that this is reality and is what is important - how can it be so when the idea of what could be is so much more inspiring and intriguing, unmarred by realities that pull down the advent of
the good and novel.
How am I to see past what is? How am I to see from an elevated perspective when life is so full of dross? Can it be done? Is this what is meant to be? It seems so unfitting; but so is the good news. Oh the irony. Who am I to feel wronged and unwarranted?
How..
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