Random Note by a Proper Artist II

If there was anything worth mentioning is that t never had to be the way it is. What does that even mean at all, one may ask? One asked too much and he should be cut off. Let my mom speak instead. 

The secretary's feeling system of paramount importance, so what? What am I writing if not for the benefit of me typing and feeling the pleasure, contemplating on the very many-sidedness of human mind. It was fun nonetheless. I was just baffled by the very format of life it had to transpire to transpire. To be human is to know oneself. The "I" that we proudly broadcast to the world is an illusion. A jerry-built container that divide and confound us.

Make one of the best philosophical thinking thinker play football, and she will probably think what his thought formulate when he plays football. Did you catch that mistake? Yes. Men don't think when they are philosphers. Philosophing itself, is the basis of the men's breathing, and thinking, is his way of drinking.

Truth about life is that it seldom becomes one of the very many opportunities that every human wants but never sought to have or own due to the abstractness of human mind and the dishonesty of which leads to the very obstruction the tempered form in the form of forum. I wonder why is the word "form" underlined in red as a word that is not formally used in a thesis, essay, or any writing of any form.

I can't remember what I used to do, who I trusted, and what I wanted to do before. I swear we've been through everything there is. Can't imagine anything we've missed. Can't imagine anything the two of us can't do. Through the years, you've never let me down. You've turned my life around. The sweetest day I've found, I found with you. Through the years.