At 17 I saw it
For all that it’s not worth
For everything it isn’t
Life,
Death,
and all the ******* we shove in between
Since then I’ve stood frozen in belief
How easy it is to accept that which never needed to be accepted
That there is no meaning
That everything means nothing
Unless we say otherwise
In a futile attempt to justify
The absurdity that is our waking lives
At 27 I feel it
For all that it’s worth
For everything that it is
Life,
Death,
And all the ******* we shove in between
I stand frozen in disbelief
How hard it is to accept
That which needs to be accepted
That we need to find our own meaning
Because in life it’s not inherent
We need to say otherwise
We need to justify
The absurdity that is our waking lives
Because seemingly futile or not
We need to fight
We need to find reason
We need to come to terms
With all that is and all that isn’t
I found the first half in an old journal, I had wrote it when I was 17, I’m 27 now and the second half is my response to my old self I suppose