Change is inevitable. Nothing remains.
I do not blame you. I blame everybody. I blame this damned cycle called life. The innate curiousity of man. This sick habit of trying new things out. Of the old dying a silent death. Do not know whether to love or hate it.
You do not understand. Why should you? Even I don't. This coating of projected image defeats the real me. This plastic smile in posy photos, this bull shitting on social websites. Why see beyond this? You don't see beyond this. And when this projected image will meet my real self, it will have naught to say. Except to shed poor black tears at fake life's false misery. Of letting things happen. Of letting things happen the way they happened.
What remains is false pride. Meaningless principles which mean nothing to anyone.
What to do?
Sub merge sensibility and practiality with philosophy. Force them and beat them into emotions. Do I do something stiff and rational? Or pull my hair to bits crying over dead emotions. Or like a block of ice let the emotions pass by. Or look at the philosophy behind all this. Look at life.
What do I do with life?