Pointless

I thought we all needed a goal, an objective, something to keep moving toward.
Nothing can ever be perfectly perfect.
We look deeper, until we find an imperfection, something to fix.
and after it’s fixed, there’s always more.
It seems brilliant.
to always keep us going, and always give us the satisfaction of achieving something.
But it’s built on it’s own imperfection.
It’s unlikely that we’ll give up, even on seeing it’s pointlessness.
But every once in a while, we hit something that cant be fixed, at least without making everything else worse.
Ingrained with persistence, we can’t let it go.
So we finally stop, and wonder…
I know I’ll get on with it again, but i wonder if i really want to.
Because i just want to stop and stare, at the blur.

It’s all just a phase.
It was just a phase to try so hard to fit in, to mould myself to fit in.
It’s just a phase to want to stand out now, to make myself as different as possible.
It was just a phase to be not care about what’s to come.
and it’s just a phase to wonder what’s gone past.
It’s just a phase to try to make sense of it all,
and it’s just another phase to give up, and find as much confusion as possible.

It’s all just a way to avoid the same old …
It’s all just a way to try to grow.
It’s all just a way to confirm your freedom.
It’s all just a way to keep occupied.

“what did I just say?”

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