Sometimes I start to think about life and existence, asking myself why we are here and how we got here, and I get so lost in my thoughts that I ‘exceed the limit’ and realize that everything we do, everything we say is useless, because one day we’re gonna die and no one will remember anything about us. We could do any madness at any time, because life is ours. Our lives are so planned, as if we all wanted to do the same things… Why don’t we live as we want to?

Submitted by anonymous (via infp-quotes)
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