its ok. yer ready to talk to yourself. or a corpse. clearly you dont handle slipping. or falling. and it was all yourself. a self praising, that no one actually, find deserving. or understand. in the end, you are always just, trying to find meanings, that no one has. nothing has. this, finality. well. anyway, for one to be happy. and mysterious things. if its understood, it wont mysterious anymore. cheer. next time, you wont even have to, count until 7. the other guy, as you see, not a child anymore. a old, flaking, adult. something... as ugly. the fool, the fool is a food, so you can, not hungry at all.

no knowing given. and so the not give, now, gets none. and in nirvana, it burns. as all should. life is a mistake. hence so, it flees, and never truly, awake

i dont feel understood. i dont feel, even, that i actually could, understand you. i simply feel, in, very perfect sense you could ever come up with... a .. na, lets continue that stickers. cuz my train of thought just got ruined. ruining things
"semua, tergantung kamu" true. in the end. only your plan matter. regardless of any sense, i am, only am. and you, you never truly, have anything, but yourself.