/lit/ - Literature

bumpin with Jarmusch

Next.

Last night when I drifted off into sleep my subconscious made the transition smooth, so smoothly that in my dream I was sleeping in the same exact position in my bed, fully tricking my brain into thinking that I was in fact not dreaming but still fully aware in the waking world. My door opened and closed as the girl who I constantly dream about slipped into the room. Before I could look at her she fell onto the bed behind me and began kissing the base of my neck. She began whispering to me lovingly. “I missed you. It's been a long time since we've been together.”

Yummy Copyright

Our live are no actual lives
They're a vessel for decisions
Our lives have no purposes, but our decisions do
The point of out lives, these physical vessels are set to accomplish three things:
Destruction
Procreation
Fame

No matter the fate you've been handed, you will have an equal impact upon history, and upon those life's around you.
Death is nothing but a sweet release from the garnished marble play ball gone out of bounds. It's delicate,
yet unknown what happens after it, but many religions believe you'll have an afterlife, and they're generally nice.