I’ve come to secretly envy those who go through life with the simplest thoughts in mind, those whose days aren’t full of “whys” and whose hearts are easily pleased. There are no clouds looming over their characterless houses and they do not ponder on life and its meaning. They just exist. And they are content. One can’t possibly be happy by simply existing, by simply executing the same routine daily without even questioning himself or his surroundings, can he?
I’ve been changing skins the past few years and I’ve only noticed when I felt the need to ink my body so that my skin wouldn’t be able to change any more. As I dive into my closet I find my self surprised over the diversity of the skins that I’ve gone through all the while being mesmerized by the fact that I’m the only one who knows; I outgrew myself.