Everything is impermanent.
Detached from seeing the point or utility in certain tasks or activities, if they had it in the first place. But is seen from an indifferent perspective, an apathic one. Concurring actions will resume on my behalf, getting adapted and increasedly content with just sticking to the narrative or making my routine, pointless as it is, it fills me, ironically.
Confused is my mind, which speaks to me in volumes, echoes trembling in my emotions; "You do not know what you want".
Slowly turning into the usual jester, a buffoon which believes something higher is prepared for him, a last joy drop of hope onto something so hollow, like a train going at ludicrous speed, an imminent crash and visceral death awaits.
Friends and deared ones are getting my help, im building a sense of community, its the only purpose i have, until I grow tired from this.
Catch me if you can.

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