Whilst you're smoking the last cigarette of the day, do you look at it and wish to smoke one more, or wait for another day? Just another few hours before the day changes and vows to return again and leaves. Leaves you with a few pieces of memories, a mixture of glee and woe, a mixture of what you want to get back and what you want to never undergo reiteratively. And the next dawn, you unfurl your eyes to a new day, to face a new set of mistakes and achievements.

Our achievements are consigned to oblivion in minutes or hours from the epitome of the events. But our mistakes? We don't learn to let them go. We basically don't want to. We hold onto our erratum and keep hurting our own selves within. Why is it so unfair with life? Why are incidents not more happy and dysphoria more petite.

I try to summon why and claim myself to be the greatest in philosophy, which I fail at. Although it isn't cause for worry, deep down, my heart suggests that I might someday be good at it.

I very well realize the gag is on me right now. I forced it on me. Getting back to business. Well, let's build castles in the air. Perceiving the world filled with euphoria, ecstasy, mirth or whatever name you'd call it. Where would all our acrimony go? Maybe, they would leap into some black hole and rest themselves. Finally. But but, aren't we humans?

We, homo sapiens are never enthralled with what we have. We crave for more. And then maybe, we'd not stop mooching for chagrin. For anarchy.

And if you think that'd be selfish of us to be so greedy, I'll right there shut your mouth and shove knives up your ass. Because, it's us humans. Mere humans who had set foot on earth to evolve nihilism and joy. We are the creators of everything that we love and hate. And given names to it according to our decree.

If fury hadn't prevailed, we wouldn't be bestowed with the eligibility to taste the flavours of the seventh heaven.

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