My Pointless Life

Inside, we are all animals. Science tells us we’re different than animals, or even insects. We preach free will, and complete dominance over ourselves. But I see now. The actions of a man are no different than that of an animal. Though we do it on a larger scale than typical, we follow basic instinctual truths. We are controlled by our own makeup, forced to survive by whatever means necessary.

Some of us, myself included, possess a deep desire for nothing more than to die. It is a biological defect, for sure, but one I enjoy indulging. The will and desire to live is weaker than the absolute truth that everything dies. More… »

I love poems, and I was just laying here thinking of one. Kinda went with it, and it felt themey. Well, it’s a bit sing-songy (I can’t exactly get a few parts right, but its not too horrid. If you have any suggestions to improve the rhythm, I welcome them .) A few parts seem out of place to me as well, eh, I’m sleepy.

There is nothing but pain;
in this life we feign.
All our hopes and dreams;
lost in truth it seems.
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