In the relentless grind of existence, it’s as if life is a ceaseless carousel of frenetic activity, yet you’re stuck in the same ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ spot, spinning your wheels in a cosmic joke.
You leap from one task to another, a perpetual whirlwind of frantic motions, but the feeling of being stationary gnaws at your core like a lunatic’s chuckle in the dead of night.
It’s a cosmic irony, really, when you’re trapped in this mechanical, biological suit we call a body, and your soul is crammed behind your eyes, aching to burst forth and escape the suffocating confines of flesh.
Every day you dance to the rhythm of the absurd, straining against the invisible shackles that bind you to this maddening cycle of action and stasis.