My only regret is to let myself live this long when there is no end or a beginning. 

Lying to myself tricking myself to find the final chapter of life to try to make it all worth while.

Nothing but a cliff hanger is the end. 

 

Where the soul of being is a manufactured by-product on our comprehensiveness to this simple Earth.

 

There is much more to this and it's nothing.

The poor lonely bum holds no grudge to the rich happy businessman on the busy streets of New York as their fates are already made the same. 

We ride this road of life with it's twists and turns making it seem worthwhile and necessary.

Once the road ends, the fancy car you road in on will disappear; vanish with everything else.

Waiting for the next fool to forge a lie and perhaps a story to himself and continue this road trip.

The thought of fading away receding into nothing; to be taken away nowhere is a beautiful concept of peace and bliss-less bliss.

A peaceful void where peace itself is irrelevant; nonexistent.

It's emptiness seducing logic and rationales.

Without a future to an end, or a past to a beginning.

A vast-less ocean without memory.

To feel nothing is a new sensation with nothing to feel.

Contradictions and hypocrisies drowned by insignificance.

It's a peaceful void.

There comes a time when you think of yourself as unimportant, inconsequential, and insignificant.

When that time comes, you feel you've come to understand so much. So much that life and death are nothing but words.

Seeing death as just another action, a choice, or a place. But more so, a goal.

A goal for when you've understood too well that seeing everything as past tense, there's no other road.

You may think that I throw the words "unimportant, inconsequential, and insignificant" far too often.

But that's what I am. That's what you are. And that's what everything is.

You may refute this, or just not understand it.

You will just go on your day working your job, earning your money, and buying your things.

Gives you a sense of placement, sense of doing something, sense of reward, and sense of ownership.

Gives you hope that there is something real within those boundaries.

Gives you hope that something matters, something is right.

There is no right and wrong, just opinions.

There is no real and unreal, just illusions.

And again, you may refute this and call me a skeptic or a nut.

But I feel, in my opinion, that I'm a more sophisticated thinker, ponderer.

But that's just what I am. I'm just thinking and writing.

A useless activity, and even more useless if I do something about it, as the end result would be meaningless.

Death is only something certain, a truth.

And I only hope I'm worthy enough for such worthlessness.