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2011. aug. 1. / Your own final truth
Insincere smiles, awkward glances, hysterical laughters, ties, pies, lies, every single thing in the whole world seemed to be shouting at me: "you won't find what you're looking for". This was my death sentence, my own final truth. But what hurts the most is that there is no universal conclusion, no "final truth", so your entire mission is completely useless. We might as well say there's no point in searching, so why not choose life instead?
In my worst nightmare, the sentences I'd painfully composed thinking they were original always turned out to be qoutes found on Google. You finally finish a thoughtful sentence, you type it in, you know, just in case it's not new or whatever, and it always displays hundreds of results.
You eventually realize you're not unique, nor are you clever. The world is a bathtub filled with clichés, and you're deep down in the lukewarm parts.