Love.
Love. Mere object of obsession, attraction of another, security. A fool in society falls captive to the idea of such a bond that leads to a horrid fate. I would rather be alone then live through that.
When you become more worried about how to live than following emotions: you sink slowly into a depression. Unaware at first, the state seems to be homeostasis yet underneath the guard, the insecurity, the lack of plans, a soul waiting to be found, discovered, and willing to reach achievements wants the perfect opportunity.
The worst of all is to reach such a state. Look around. Then realization hits. You ARE happy. You ARE complete. Yet, they ARE not. Hidden in their mind, building a wall, captured in a body that lives only for the minute.
A characteristic for life? Or an escape of destiny? Some may argue. However, I for one, am dumbfounded on how one would even consider living life this way.
When you become more worried about how to live than following emotions: you sink slowly into a depression. Unaware at first, the state seems to be homeostasis yet underneath the guard, the insecurity, the lack of plans, a soul waiting to be found, discovered, and willing to reach achievements wants the perfect opportunity.
The worst of all is to reach such a state. Look around. Then realization hits. You ARE happy. You ARE complete. Yet, they ARE not. Hidden in their mind, building a wall, captured in a body that lives only for the minute.
A characteristic for life? Or an escape of destiny? Some may argue. However, I for one, am dumbfounded on how one would even consider living life this way.