Thoughts are reflections of feeling. Unguarded feelings lead to ugly thoughts.

One day I will die. Persona shattered around its husk and the magic is done. Euphoria and pain subside to dust as the illusion of Will fades. Choices and their meanings gradiate black. In the end, my life was mine to enjoy, just as it was the Cosmos to destroy. Yet only alive could I imagine death's horror. Only could the present be squandered over such sad thoughts. Likewise it is the present which serves medium to pleasure. In the past I did softly speak, thoroughly distraught and challengingly meek. It is Now that I may sever for Self a piece of what life really "means."