Is life about resisting death? Is it the art of not making mistakes in the face of pain? What does life have to say to us? It is the one who forces us to the worst path, The one who deceives in the worst way and then says you are the only one here. I'm torn now. I couldn't solve my problem anywhere, While I was looking for a cure, I fell for every medicine and drank it to my heart's content to ease my pain. The next thing I knew, I was poisoned. Now the pain of it. What was my crime, seeking a cure? Trying to convince myself that I'm happy? Mistakes I made while trying to learn what I needed? Is this how this order goes? Why do we resist then? We are subjected to so much pain to experience even one good thing. We are deceiving ourselves. This is not a life fellow, this is resisting to death.
I write when I overthink. This happens so often.