Aren't we here to fight our own battles?
Make memories and feel things
Any of which won't even matter
After all, this is over?
But Alas we fight, we fight every day
To stay alive, searching for happiness
Hoping for a better tomorrow
And finding peace someday
Perhaps one of the most difficult battles is the one we have with ourselves
To find out our PURPOSE
Our own place in this world
In this vast vast world.
Thus I often find myself lost
Burdened to find that purpose In this surreal world.
Trying to find meaning In this meaningless world
......
Finally to realize
Nothing that matters will matter
Nothing we remember will be remembered
All the sweet and sour memories
Fluttering flits and non-rhythmic beats
Crumbled and will be forgotten at last
Hearts made of PAPER and souls made of DUST.