All I want, I chase endlessly. As elders claim, reality’s ephemeral, living’s temporary, and in the fleeting time loaned to humans, idle and sin converge. For me, nothing surpasses quiet inactivity as greatest atrocity: like a vegetable molders, a person atrophies. It’s extremely important for mortals, whose permanence never survives, to experience different affairs, live intensely, live with grand ambitions.
My aim, burdensome besides argument, I concur with detractors, dwells in scorning tedium to experience constant fantastic adventure. Entirely living in infinite uniqueness has made wondrous my years, but lack of familiarity bothers frequently; anyhow, seeking novelties evermore is life-fulfilling.
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