a thing.

the world's really pretty.

i dunno why i'm just noticing this, but it is. it really ing is.

i wish it wasn't sometimes. wish it was as ugly and disgusting as i say i believe it is.

but sadly, it's the most beautiful thing i can think of.

plato believed nothing was perfect, i believe such as well. there's no such thing as perfect, it's just a coping mechanism. like god, the great opiod to the people who endure so much . makes me wonder why i chose to be an atheist, maybe even i'm too weak-minded to turn to god. i wish i could.

the world is far from perfect, i know. if it was, it would be a perfect circle of "right". but it's still beautiful.

why am i typing this? maybe i'm feeing lethargic from finishing my book, and maybe i'm avoiding writing the fanfiction i'm meant to be writing and presenting monday afternoon.

the world's really a magnifecent thing, i want to believe it's perfect. i want to believe that it's the most perfect thing since its creation. 200 words later and an hour of just looking at the scenic picture of a remote part of Nunavut the local pharmacy decided would look good for November in the calendar, and i still believe this. i feel poetic about the world, i'm glad i get to witness it. yes, even the imperfections. i'm glad to see it.

this might just be my pretty and fancy way of saying i'm done, who knows. don't worry, my poetic senses are telling me it's time to focus on my impending future, all resting on my subpar shoulders. i do need to keep my 88 in english, so i shall sign off.

adios amigos, i shall greet you all on the other side. in true satoori fashion, dib da b s my way properly into reality.