And I think of myself no more than a body slowly decaying.
I'm dying.
with every day that passes all i feel is decay.
You ask me what is the meaning of life.
Decay.
Destruction.
The slow burn of happiness and youth until you're reduced to a pile of ashes.
what, then is the point of our petty lives?
To try and rot slower?
Our flesh
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though I would agree with you on a few of the things you said... you are skeptical, you can be moody, and you are a good judge of character... the rest... I do not agree with. Kat, things will get better for you. If you look at things in a negative perspective, you will find yourself being so much worse than you already are.
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<3
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