Constantly in a state of rough drafts
everything is alright on one take
if done right
does what everyone does seek right
i.e. What if someone is attached to something arbitrarily connected to bad roots, false pretenses
why do some laugh at another's pain? Where is the joy in sadness? I guess the answer is a riddle, and I guess the riddler is deeply entrenched in sad beauty, incessentantly trying to find the incense of essence, the essential incense, the breeze, the steady flow of transgressions and regressions in life, through a question that begets even more question.