Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath, And the want Of thought is death, Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.
The Fly by William Blake
I cleaned my floor today. I’m seeing a spider crawling on my immaculate floor. I’m tempted to kill it, while I’m also fascinated by the fact that this thing…is alive. And I am the one who holds the power of life and death…
RIP Gabriel Garcia Marquez… another titan falls
i wish i had a narrator in my life, so i can keep track of where i am, so i can know i’m doing fine or not, so i can know where i must lead
don’t be weak
fuck, im gonna
oh searching always never satisfied with my answers, is there an objective answer, a truth