Isn’t the existence
a misunderstood joke?

It raises questions like
Why am I?
Who am I?
As if there is something.

Something serious
something mysterious
knowing which
things would start making sense.

Is it really necessary for things to make sense?
Isn’t it possible that all this is merely a joke?


Author: Aaditya Balouria

I am what I am and maybe that is what I‘ve always wanted to be or maybe not. Anyway, now that I am what I am, and now that I know that I cannot be any different, all I can do is tell you how it feels to be me or maybe not even that.

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