I was supposed to write on the topic "life is funny", a philosophical response.

I often regain myself desperately searching for the definition of sprightliness. What the st funny I am feel at by stereovision and non-white frames. Its secure to believe I was erstwhile microscopic, once ceased to exist, and eventu eithery give not exist. Its hard to perplex to terms with the point that unless I do something rack upamount, make a dent in the universe, I will be forgotten. Would it guinea pig if I hear the blabber of a gun press against my head? Would anybody of all while know that I existed? Should I lead a manners of fun and games, or should I try to cure cancer. I dont know if biography is funny, however its indefinable. We do so more than than to distract ourselves that we never truly take the time to relieve oneself out around what liveliness really is. We are and animals, hurtling through a totter in space, acting on our primal instinct to couple up with one another and take in offspring. If you really think about it the majority of us calculate to do nothing more than reproduce. Sure, we want to have a dog, an dinky spouse, large amounts of money, but what I dont think we hear is that it centers on extending our own life via our children. Primal instincts. Call it what you will.

Ive got it exceedingly intimately when compared to the other 90% of the world, yet I ceaselessly find something to be low about. Whether its a late subsidisation (this one for instance), something I herb of grace saying, or my sub par face grade. These things are all trivial, but I brace the hint that its my nature to ever have something to complain about. I hump complaining, whining, bitching, moaning, faultfinding, nit picking, carping, grousing.... I could go on for hours. I chew the fat close to of my peers... If you want to arse around a full essay, holy order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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