I might have added, as it entered my mind to do, that some people found satisfaction in being. Being. Others in becoming. Being people have all the breaks. Becoming people are very unlucky, always in a tizzy. The Becoming people are always have to make explanations or offer justifications of the Being people. While the Being people provoke these explanations.
A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for illusion is deep.
It’s usually the selfish people who are loved the most. They do what you deny yourself, and you love them for it. You give them your heart.
With one long breath, caught and held in his chest, he fought his sadness over his solitary life. Don’t cry, you idiot! Live or die, but don’t poison everything…