stab

i have asked the question of "why to write?" many times before. at the end, i have always found myself came across with the same answer: to be. 

this is of course pretty much personal but it also whispers the one and the only truth hidden under the job of living for all humans. we live to be. talk to be. express ourselves to be. socialize to be. to be accepted. to be approved. to be supported. to not feel lonely.

communicate to bear out our own existence. to run away from suspicion. suspicion of having a long unhappy life just by ourselves. because many of us are not strong enough to stand losing the very last hope in living, ending the lives of our own, and peacefully facing with the cold touch of that knife - the death. 

everyone fears death. deep inside. 

that's all and enough, as simple as that. 

i am tired of writing.