Consequences

Skelletometric

Skelletometric

Sigma roid cutecell
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What makes life even worth living? The only thing that makes life worth living is the fact that’s it’s such a fragile puny thing. This brittle weak life line determining whether you and me die today or tomorrow is the only reason why life is worth anything at all. How can we feel this?

The only thing able to remind us of our own fragility our closeness to death is risks and the possible consequences they carry. Instead of demonizing risks and therefore consequences I adore them.

Substantial risks feel so fucking good they make you feel so fucking alive. They remind you that you are alive by having death knock on your fucking front door.

I’m not a girl crying that one stupid mistake shouldn’t follow me my entire life I am a man who fucking loves the weight of his actions, the consequences of the risks I take.

I love side effects, I love the unnecessary proximity to death.

My need for life and therefore consequences will kill me. My obsession with creating will kill me. I hope this kills me. I want my death in my hands not someone else’s.

I won’t die tomorrow but the possibility thrills me. I will live to 70 and then my heart will stop. I will die with a smile on my face with a single tear rolling down my face. Reminding me I used to live

I absolutely love this shit :lul:
 

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