The Pieces and Haunting

thurs sept 17

I somehow always come back to simplifying purpose of life with meaning of death, but shy away from sitting and educating myself on philosophies and religions that attempt to answer such. More so the futility of hoping to understand or just almost know consumes me, and scares me. When times are still and things aren’t moving, the end of all haunts me best.

The more fitted the pieces, the harder to clean.