It was said

It was asked in class a couple days ago. I wondered why I couldn’t give an answer. The question was: “what would you do to change the world?” I felt it was a narcissistic impulse to immediately feel that the world was fine the way it is. The truth of the manner is that it is tough to put my finger on the world. The world grows and destroys faster than it ever breeds. A unbearably eclipsing power that submerges us as a society into an abyss of comp licitness. Tangible is the stud that fumbles beneath our feet. I feel that there is no way to change unless you completely understand the world itself. That I have not accomplished. Slithering banter bombards generosity and generosity drowns the one’s in solitude. A complex bowl of problems we have on our hands. The only way to persevere through this meandering convolution is to stabilize the ground for which you stand, or rather adapt to it. You might say the answer to progression is purely platonic. I suppose, I would have to for the most part agree with you. I believe spiritual salvation is a cure but also there is a riddling puzzles within the thin air that surrounds all of us. There is much more to life than meets the eye. Now, obviously you would know I subject to this opinion because of I said I agree with the spiritual rejuvenation, that can aid but I am talking of other matters as well. The night falls, a murder takes place. Night falls, a student studies for a test. Night falls, a mother gives birth. Night falls, a building collapses on millions. Night falls, a charitable fund is granted towards the homeless. Night falls, and the spontaneity of life breeds a new light. Obviously, everyone for the most part, I assume, knows that the news shows the bad much more than the good. It’s just how it works. There is much more that goes on everyday than what is presented.

So where do we start? Where do we begin? An apocryphal believer would tell you the world is ending at this moment or the sky is actually a shade of misinterpretation. Whatever that means. Or what if the believer in common folk tales, or trendy skepticism,  is actually the one who is the deceptive teller of the truth. Who really knows? I’ll scuffle my worries away under the bed of comfort and sleep my busy mind away.

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