A collection of thoughts mimics every choice. A fleeting moment, a
simple chance. There is only one line that streams across the mind. I
never wanted this. I never wanted this. I never. Wanted. This. But it
happened. And it is happening. And it will happen. The thoughts only
reverberate through the most emotional of beings. Or so it is known.
Never is one able to achieve his or her purpose--at least not fully.
And so it is known. Life is only a fleeting reminder of the choices
made in the past, every ill-begotten day of the present, every deep
anticipation of the future. All a simple lie, caught inside the folds
of the world's only truth-sayers. The mind believes this not, only
varying its patterns so as to think away from these perceptions.
However, what shall occur has happened, and what will happen is
replaying scene by scene, stroke by stroke, deep inside these
simple...minds.
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