When there is a single star in the sky, it looks like an ink drop. About to fall off this.. next.. second…. Something you can reach out and take in your hand. An out of place dot, coming out of the page. A tiny speck, brush it away.

Down right in line with the moon, it seems to be the end of a laser. Splitting the sky into two. Maybe a hole. Or maybe its the only thing real and all else is hollow.

…….. Wild imagination on mellow nights.

I dont get this world. I really don’t get the way it works. You spend your entire day towards one sole purpose: making money. Money money more money. Nothing wrong with better cars and houses and travelling, but the system is messed up. You might hate the job and in the process of remaning loyal to it give up everything else you love. Passions and people and.. unless you already had $$ in the first place. Instant bling.

But thats the problem isn’t it. Either definintion wholly dependant on how big a back account is in your name.

Anything tangible loses it’s worth eventually. Hoarding it is relatively pointless. And there’s no difference between that and dedicating your entire life towards it

Why does everything come with a literal price?

Imagine a world without it, and we’d be in chaos. I think my thoughts have stopped coming to conclusions.


~ by asad on November 5, 2008.

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