Socrates once said, "I have to poop." Even Archimedes would have said the same, Obama too, why not, Trump as well.

Society takes some jumbled letters from people who just yelled and wrote down sentences thinking of meaning, perceiving them as God-given little symbolisms.

Is it? really?

I can write philosophy lessons for you. Life is like a journey from an unknown destination to the source destination as you never know why you started living but definitely know how it will end, death. Death is the most used villain as it symbolizes non-existing and people staying still in their carbon-based lifeform.

Death is the absolute end? Some people never thought as to why the destination and source were interchanged while understanding death, so they made life as a journey with no end. Why would a heaven stay where only the good go? If only the good enters heaven, what would they do in there? Braid each other’s hairs? What would the hell people do? Eat, fuck and be happy. So, why not hell?

They say a man cannot be changed, yet the talk of heaven and hell seems to inspire dread in them. So, is it true? If someone who has witnessed it writes a book where would it be published? And if the question of morality arises, how could a dead man return to life to publish it in the mortal realm?

My mind is not a place but a thought where I believe in the purpose of existing is just that. Existing. Nothing is superior and nothing is inferior. I do have a little faith in God and it is tested constantly with the introduction of characters in my life. But what I would never agree on is the non-existence of God because I know that God exists with often rude examples of him telling me to be depressed and like a paperweight not be with any purpose. I can tell the difference between the coincidence and string of repeated coincidences that can only be explained by a higher power.

But trusting in a higher power to poop is not the logical way, nor trusting in the God to make your life a living heaven. He is just existing as the rest of us, and chose to help some while forsaking others. It means he has no control over the whole world or he chooses to ignore the screams of little bitches. But a God can never be without reason. No, he is without reason. People don’t get what they deserve and that makes God the most stupid creature to allow chaos but what is chaos?

Chaos is the culmination of the little things we allow to take over when in distress. Cain was considered the first murderer. But he didn’t introduce chaos, nor his parents. Abel did. That dumb bitch. Abel cried out to God for Cain’s punishment while being dead. That asshole is the reason chaos exists in the world. Because his blood cried out, God didn’t punish Cain because it wouldn’t be fair. Earlier, God punished Adam, Eve and the serpent each for their own sins but God cannot punish Cain and let him wander around eternity because chaos was introduced by the Abel asking for Cain’s punishment.

Why chaos? Because Abel asked for it, he became a vengeance seeker. At this point, Cain and Abel are both sinners but for different sin, interlocked with Cain’s original sin. Just a five-minute peak into my mind. Thanks for coming to my ted-talk.

Beauty is subjective. I look at a child as cute little things, if had the chance I would shower the child in the park with kisses and lay my life down even if hard, boiling, magma filled volcanic rock fall on him.

There is aman on the park bench, 35 years, probably seen him once ot thrice in the same green pale bench looking around. He is looking in the direction of the child with his mom. The mom is 5'6 and good looking as the child threw her the plastic blue boomerang. She jumped and her bosoms jumped with excitement as her, the sweat on her forehead and neck suggests that she has been here a long time playing with her son. "She is beautiful" I thought and looked away thinking as her child is lucky to have her. I liked the idea of a woman taking care of her child in both the academic and physical education.

I moved my dog and took his poop with greasy plastic paper and threw it away at the garbage. The man hasn't moved still. He was looking at the woman and her child. She gave him a stern look of the type my mom used to give at the aunt who kept trying to take me alone and I understood her. I approached her slowly and asked, "Maam, Is someone bothering you?" "Nothing." quick and disengaging as she packed her picnic bag and clothes and hurried away.

I reached home and as I searched for theTV remote, I found the lady's picture and the child's in my picture frame as I am holding her in my hands with a blue interior cake. My k-9 labrador licked my tears as it fell in the ground. I didn't recognize her fear, the fear of her ex or the fear of a predator. That's the beauty of divorce.

Along the side, stood a silhouette of an adorned wearer of wire-like clothes, if you ask me the plain look of the actress is a little like boredom and the little cotton threads clinging onto the silhouette speaks stories; Stories never told by the red-carpet girl, who wears the silk of a renowned gay problematic dresser. The silhouette moves and dances as the actress, flashing for the lights, bright white and light green streaks which catch them for the immortality pleasure.

One little shot worth a few hundreds, a little to none work, do as the man pleases and go home for the night with teary eyes, shaky legs and drenched in sweat, exhausted with memories of brushing and kissing men and women in the cheeks.

Slump after the night, weakened shoulders, dry pat the wet clumsy stick on the teeth ridges, tasting the bitter litter of the buffet.

They never specify the time and date, just be ready on a short notice. The man switches up them leading the lady into the night and emerging with the silhouette half an hour later. Some speak, some swallow, some spit but none open their white lie mouth in the area where tabloid and center page of the magazine is made. Then the silhouette is traded in the street, this time it blows.

The actress is a transaction into tomorrow’s work and paid in fame and riches while the prostitute is paid instant with regret and green. The silhouette stands, wipes and leaves the back door waiting for the next guy to fill her pussy and hand her green to keep her wailing child at rest.