Rhetoric is the devil.

entropy in prose

99.99 is fallible, and that’s probably as good as it will ever get. Cause’ once— a single blunder in any millions of infinitely possible failures was enough to fracture it. So it was sutured, but we never really fixed the problem, and we’ll never fix the problem, because the problem is the very nature of our condition. A condition that the same suture, like all sutures, or otherwise existent obstacles possess. 99.99 is fallible. There is wisdom to be found in the tears, but they aren’t pleasant to observe, sometimes they’re hiding behind the real ugly bits. Enter the impartial that is to combat the paranoid upon this unique battleground, both abnormally keen on their surroundings. A position is held and a path is made, which hurts a bit to re-step. Cause’ before we left, someone died who ardently believed right. When you’re in the cloth and you walk on strands, you sometimes don’t watch your step. Waves are made, and who’s to blame but just-some-assholes-who-followed-next.

Being As An Ocean

—This Loneliness Won't Be the Death of Me

(Source: qhostfight)

The Story So Far

—States and Minds


States and Minds | The Story So Far

Being As An Ocean

—The Sea Always Seems To Put Me At Ease

(Source: defeatxthelow)

Ambition tramples and philanthropy is nothing more than an outlet of remorse. Contentedness is a blessing and mediocrity is a cure. Funny how we can’t afford the luxury of a concern for health— we’re told we ought to be noble, and we’re taught to tie noble to wealth.

I’ll be drowned by Monday.