Every thought is an attempt to entertain the mind. The purpose of thoughts is to distract them from imminent pain; to give one hope, to allow one to fantasize of a better world, to allow one to manipulate the perennial and to conjure up an animalistic playground that has no more worth than what has expired. I realize that my being is not for the purpose of being fixed on one towards one point in ethereal space, the point getting smaller and smaller leaving less space for flexibility, conditioning our universe into being stagnant.
Living in the past; it means that we keep wanting something that we have already had once before. The problem is not desiring an element, but hating its absence.
To clear my mind of desires: to give in to the imminent pain, to give up hope, to snap out of the fantasy and into the real world, to leave the playground haven. It only seems like the greatest heartbreak ever undergone because I have not learned the many ways to love.
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