Isn't it funny how we're constantly balancing on the outermost edge of being,but never getting the comfort of oblivion? It is the same routine every.single.day. as you waste away and move towards the inevitable end.What people really call 'life' is actually just a continual dying.One hopes, gets or doesn't get what one wants and the process continues again and again.Is there really anything worth waiting for?
Is this is the horror of being....beside which death pales?

















