It is so typical of me to think about existentiality, future and life when there is this proverbial pile of task scattered around, like my real-life room mess. But muse – as any self-respecting thinker will tell you – always come at unexpected, and often annoying, time.
Sure, I could always ignore it, but guess I’ve done enough ignoring already. It is infuriating, the nagging of ignoring.
But then, does contemplating will yield any result, at all? Or is it just a poor man substitute for what human truly long for? And though I really want to tell myself it is okay, it is alright not to know, it is not alright.
And maybe that’s the problem, always been the problem. What you are living for, that’s the priceless— much more precious than 1 million – question.
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