It's true, our life is just like a book. Our simple, yet so complicated life is exactally like a novel you'd pick up in your local book store. It just comes with millions and millions of more pages. Were also the authors of this one, there's no inspiration what so ever, what's inserted on these pages come naturally and unexpectably. It's the lonely book behind all the used and read ones, it sits there all alone because it knows if someone were to pick it up, and at least try to attempt to read it, they'd never completley understand it. You couldn't blame them though, they didn't live your life. On that first day, when you become existent to this unexplainable world and take your very first breath, the first page begins to write itself, untill that one day when you take your last and final breath, that noone really sees coming. Right now during this exact moment, sentences are being written. Every day is different and comes with new challenges. You could have a simple paragraph on one day, and the next have a whole chapter written, or even much more, or much less. Life is misconstrued and it sucks. If we could contol how each day, month, year, or even our complete life went, with no interuptions, interferences, or conflicts, life would be boring. So therefore, the fact that life is the way it is, makes me feel kind of lucky. It gives me hope, I wouldn't need hope if everything was planned out perfectly. As pages and pages are written, we can't help, but wonder what the future will be like. So, For all of those unwritten future pages I honestly have no idea about them, and I don't expect yout to either. All I know about them, is that you wouldn't be able to spot a scribble, doodle, wrinkle, or even a tiny tear on them. They are simple blank pages, but tomorrow, when another page or more is added, I bet you could find all of the things I just listed. I can't say I ever lived a "perfect" day in my life, but I'm completly fine with that because I guess that's the way life is. I don't know what the future holds, what it has in store for me, or who I'm going to become, or even if I'm ever gonna find a meaning for this thing we call life, but what I do know is that for now, I'm content with this book that's being written right this very second.
It's true, our life is just like a book. Our simple, yet so complicated life is exactally like a novel you'd pick up in your local book store. It just comes with millions and millions of more pages. Were also the authors of this one, there's no inspiration what so ever, what's inserted on these pages come naturally and unexpectably. It's the lonely book behind all the used and read ones, it sits there all alone because it knows if someone were to pick it up, and at least try to attempt to read it, they'd never completley understand it. You couldn't blame them though, they didn't live your life. On that first day, when you become existent to this unexplainable world and take your very first breath, the first page begins to write itself, untill that one day when you take your last and final breath, that noone really sees coming. Right now during this exact moment, sentences are being written. Every day is different and comes with new challenges. You could have a simple paragraph on one day, and the next have a whole chapter written, or even much more, or much less. Life is misconstrued and it sucks. If we could contol how each day, month, year, or even our complete life went, with no interuptions, interferences, or conflicts, life would be boring. So therefore, the fact that life is the way it is, makes me feel kind of lucky. It gives me hope, I wouldn't need hope if everything was planned out perfectly. As pages and pages are written, we can't help, but wonder what the future will be like. So, For all of those unwritten future pages I honestly have no idea about them, and I don't expect yout to either. All I know about them, is that you wouldn't be able to spot a scribble, doodle, wrinkle, or even a tiny tear on them. They are simple blank pages, but tomorrow, when another page or more is added, I bet you could find all of the things I just listed. I can't say I ever lived a "perfect" day in my life, but I'm completly fine with that because I guess that's the way life is. I don't know what the future holds, what it has in store for me, or who I'm going to become, or even if I'm ever gonna find a meaning for this thing we call life, but what I do know is that for now, I'm content with this book that's being written right this very second.