Make love, no war.
As a matter of fact that the other part of the world shall be ashamed of itself, recognised and not recognised simultaneously, my thought of “having the necessity to complete a life” has inevitably come up recently. Having a lackadaisical living, albeit filled with rush, gives no conscience as I often embrace the mere beauty of thoughtful tranquility.
Our superiority as human beings entertains no such beliefs that to evade, to metastasise, to conquer, and to shatter. No one is privileged to generate the vague horror that one is constantly experiencing, nor the excruciating pain that one will eventually suffer from. No jealousy, no dictatorship, no war, if music could help.
