From the distance of one intention to the same proximity in view, I usually find myself, thinking - about - how much can a person take without receiving anything in return? Something's are strictly made of habit, while others, still young enough to be born in their time (I'm speaking of the purely hypothetical factor's in life. . . ) such as: what inhibits one change within oneself, this follows, coming to a decisive frame of mind, then, to the next and so on and so forth to infinity. (This would be a truth about fallacy, as is to speak of notwithstanding - a loaded question!) Though not so 'peculiar' by any stretch of the imagination, I seek to find so much in creating an inventive formula, I would think is done so in language, not so deformed in any such rhetorical per se factuality.
So much in my mind, as in what I write about, compared to what I speak seems so foreign to me in everything - absolutely - everything.
Therefore, my aim is to argue that nothing in language can matter. Even so is true in my articulation of thought, that why - or how - can such a system let alone a perfect 'infinite' variable of time were to exist. Some believe it is purely scientific, while others presume the opposite of this view is artistic (i.e. creationism in the bible equates if you are religious, then, you also accept 'god' in the spiritual domain post ergo.)
Though, when I look into my past focused on my present state of mind, none of this even remotely matter's, to the time I look upon with more questions then there are answers. Therefore, all of life on this earth withholds some form of secrecy stretched out in to a beauty pageant of trivial consequences.
When I walk into a local Starbucks in the same neighborhood I live, after spending a small fortune, or denominations well above average figures, I Would anticipate to be treated equally or less of. Instead, what I have found in my trips to the chauvinist barista in green aprons, are very much my idea acting against what I enjoy more. The social atmosphere is melancholic, without the tendencies - of upperclass hypocrites. On the contrary, I need cafes, not in general, but for the aroma, that single blend of grounded well, processed though a stainless steel genie, as a craft that embodies fragrance. I suppose this blocks my will to succeed the turbulent satisfaction of a minimum wage counter. Though I clearly do see through the clever disguises, nothing can take away from the golden brown, smooth yet love for chocolate aroma.
However, in my mind, I think straight into the end goal, that I have been purged upon simply based on my own indulgence. Yet, it works - it simply works, and no one else can experience this - can they?
In order to admit you've been wronged, or taken formerly, (as I stated earlier) pigeon-like, knowing what your getting yourself into, without rewarding myself, I've taken the liberty of being rated as a customer, "Take your order, you should be satisfied, if you believe that, NOW YOU PAY ME." It's quite a different message according to the symbols of monetary restitution zipping through the card reader of plastic credit. However, it is only worth noting how nothing ever changes that. Also, nothing can dispel the fact a revelation had it occurred or redemption in knowing afterward - yes - it happened.
What takes place when you examine the past, though there is no present involved until, then, was when it happened. So much fear comes between what is at stake and what is actually happening during a moment in, which I realized, I knew that later I was taking nothing for granted. This is truly - knowledge.
Yet, it all happens so fast.
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