I like being alive
I like being alive.
The sun is filtering through my blinds and it's quiet save for the soft music playing from my speaker and the occasional scraping of my spoon against a bowl as I eat breakfast. The taste of pepper lingers on my tongue as I contemplate my rumpled sheets on the bed before me. This is evidence of my existence, my humble impression upon the universe.
"Einmal ist keinmal" — once is nothing. But this once being nothing becomes my everything. This existential emptiness which makes my soul light, almost unbearably so, also grants it gravity that weighs on the fabric of the world once only, and never again in the same way.
I like being alive.