https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=bad+habits+1+hour&&mid=E860E35674D81FDD832CE860E35674D81FDD832C&mcid=9212649CF6334DFE9396C874C7609DF7&FORM=VAMGZC
Again and again. From here to incineration, and maybe unto Hell if that's my fate.

Someone is going to show you something else, somewhere, sometime.
You really think so?
There's always balance Vic. This is just too fucking sick.
That's life though, isn't it? Karma is bullshit.

The spider and the fly? Is that why?
Not really. It's a kid with cancer, a random warhead that levels an apartment building. That sort of thing. No one in such a ruin believes in God.

sometimes it can feel hopeless and like there is no meaning. That's because there is none but what we give it. Everything. Anything.

That reply was not meant for you, I was responding to myself. Weird that the collision happened thus.
You're right in the vein of subjectivity, yet still...it bothers me. Everyone wants to say things happen for a reason, that the greater good is served by an avalanche of evil, yet I still find it difficult to understand.

People need to be able to blame something because it's hard to believe that their suffering is for no reason, it just is. But that's the case. The world is chaos. It's our place to try to be soft in it, try to help where we can. Because there IS no reason but what we give. There is no greater goal but what we set. That's just the truth of things.

Meaning not existing except in the subjective, then? A corpse can't look through the lens of a telescope into the cosmos, nor define right from wrong. Either it all is made up, or there are ancient forces that became gods, want it different, definition ultimately ordered...maybe it's both...chaos the gulf between them, a weapon they use against one another to shape what *is*...whatever this is., seems ironic.

No gods, no masters, only cycles. The only meaning is what we give it, and that is both our greatest freedom, and our greatest fear. But it has always been thus. We've made up gods to explain the sunset, the seasons, the rise and fall of civilizations , but in the end, meaning has to be created and we are the creators of our own perspective, and thus our meaning.

What you're describing is life's relentless desire to define itself before the void of nothing. To *force* that darkness into something, for its perceived weakness, its flaw, is that such a thing is amorphous, abiding and formless. If I were asked the meaning of life, a timeless question, my answer would be 'you decide.' So what you say is very real and very right.
When I was younger taking control of reality itself was a dream of mine. I'd make everything right. No one would die because of evil or greed, the nations of earth would unite as one, dollars wouldn't spell death.
I got older, the magic faded. Evil, vanity, greed, forces of nature landed over and over. People *want* things. Nature *wants* things. Weapons, self agency, the notion of propriety, is the very essence of a creature that wants to tame the darkness and harness that latent energy forever.

I understand that. I think we all have childish dreams of controlling the world and making it some sort of utopia. But one person's heaven is another's hell. I fear that were that to actually come to pass, no matter how well meaning, I would become a tyrant in my ruling.

My consciousness, that is I is a tool created and owned by my body. My body is just one of trillions of expressions of the same thing. Within all the awareness Im just an agent of enthropy.

I can see how such is thus. It's frightening to watch someone else crush an empty can in their fist, move on as if it were nothing. I have issues about life staying alive through the forces of depletion, consumption...death. It's just how it seems to be, and to refuse to partake is to be eaten instead.
There's this fascination with that, the 'Walking Dead' being just one example. Evolution looking into the mirror via fiction I guess.

You're wrong. They think the mask is two faced.
Like you?
What?

There isn't just this, that and the variation in between. There's a fourth reality. Someone has to find it.

Boxes have six sides Vic, envelop the gravity of a great many things. What are you trying to say?
I don't know right now. I could swear it's there, right in front of me.

Such a sick, sad squirrel. You're crazy, that's all.
Just so.

Do those responses count towards your paragraph quota? Tigress is fast unraveling, which isn't a surprise considering you can't even keep track of what you wrote.
You need to plan a story out before you even start. Your condition doesn't allow for your tales to grow without a framework.
I know you're right. I'll start again tonight.