Life is so fragile.
I take it for granted sometimes because the world I live in moves at a fast pace.
Trains.
Cars.
Planes.
Boats.
No one walks anywhere anymore.
Because this is faster.
More convenient.
But in a second the train could crash.
The car could ignite with fire.
The plane could fall.
The boat could sink.
No one thinks about that.
Because no one wants to.
No one wants to think that their millions of dollars could be wasted in just a moment.
That memories become ghosts and hard work becomes worthless.

Life is so disgraceful, sometimes.
I like to think about children being born without any sin or hate and that society just corrupts their minds.
Because it's a shame to think that so many people are abused because of cold hearts.
So many precious lives are lost because of one person who thought words were only words.

Living is a waste of life, sometimes.
I like to think about endless sleep in the arms of my father.
Unstirred and unmoving.
Unable to be hurt.
Unable to hurt others.
Why waste air breathing, when I can take share mine with the others and sleep?

Life is a battle.
I feel ignited with the same passion that buries me deep within my own mind.
A war between two losing armies.
Like going for a nice swim during a tsunami.
-except I can't swim.
But I would love to.
Walk into that sweet oasis and be immersed into nothing.
Just the silence and rush of water consuming me.

Life is beautiful, sometimes.
I feel like the black shadow dragging soot across the field.
Unable to sweep away the darkness.
I think if someone tried hard enough, they could uncover a bright red heart burning underneath.
Burning from consuming so much fire.

Life isn't life.
Sometimes life is death, and I like to think that dying could be living.
-I do love the smell of freshly cut grass.

Life is like a fire.
One small word ignites it.
And it erupts.
The flames never die, even far after the fire has been put out.

But they could be extinguished with one simple jump.
One crash.
One accident.

On purpose.