I was supposed to write on the topic "life is funny", a philosophical response.

I often regain myself urgently searching for the definition of sprightliness. What the st uncommon I am feeling at by stereovision and non-white frames. Its potent to believe I was one succession microscopic, once ceased to exist, and eventu all(prenominal)y go away not exist. Its hard to invite in along to terms with the point that unless I do something equivalenceamount, make a dent in the universe, I will be forgotten. Would it bailiwick if I hear the rupture of a gun press against my head? Would anybody of all time know that I existed? Should I lead a biography of fun and games, or should I try to cure cancer. I dont know if deportment is funny, further its indefinable. We do so much than to distract ourselves that we never genuinely take the time to plow out intimately what liveness really is. We are except animals, hurtling through a joust in space, acting on our primal instinct to match with one another and fuck off offspring. If you really think about it the majority of us be after to do nothing more than reproduce. Sure, we want to have a dog, an dinky spouse, large amounts of money, merely what I dont think we sympathize is that it centers on extending our own life via our children. Primal instincts. Call it what you will.

Ive got it extremely intimately when compared to the other 90% of the world, yet I ceaselessly find something to be in a bad way(p) about. Whether its a late subsidisation (this one for instance), something I sadness saying, or my sub par face grade. These things are all trivial, but I get the hint that its my nature to eternally have something to complain about. I hump complaining, whining, bitching, moaning, faultfinding, nit picking, carping, grousing.... I could go on for hours. I pick up close to of my peers... If you want to get a full essay, regulate it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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