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"Life is supposed to be difficult," he said taking a long swig for his ornate hip flask, "It’s the struggle against the infinite violence of a universe.” I smiled, perhaps he was right or perhaps he was just an asshole making it up as he went along, but the gravity of his remark struck me unexpectedly. The default to life was indeed struggle, for all life not just intelligent life; why would I be exempt. I didn’t care for the man and his insidious gloat of pomposity. Nothing is absolute, nothing certain, which makes the possibilities boundless. The joy of life is making it from one moment to the next through adversity and earning the things the things people say about you when you arrive at your freshly dug grave carried by those you hold dearest.

Friday, 24 February 2017

Living on Sandy Soil

She left the home she abode, longer than her memory, And crossed the bridges burnt by others to get to the place she needed. There she found great hardships and difficulties to overcome. There she planted her home in sandy soil And carved a life from the tree that grew. It was there she found the peace and joy she once thought only others knew.

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