THE MACHINERY OF THE WHEEL

        ┌─────────────────────────────┐
        │                             │
        │          ┌─────────┐        │
        │         ╱           ╲       │
        │        │    ↻ ↻ ↻    │      │
        │         ╲           ╱       │
        │          └─────────┘        │
        │                             │
        └─────────────────────────────┘

         ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
         ░░░░░░░░░  b a n d a g e  ░░░
         ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

              ▒▒▒▒▒  c u t  ▒▒▒▒▒

                  .   .   .   .

                  (  nothing  )

Life is like spinning on a wheel, where everything feels important but ends up leading nowhere.

Every person we love, every success we chase, and every moment of happiness we experience is temporary. A small bandage over the deep cut that is simply being alive.

                       ↻
                    ↻     ↻
                  ↻         ↻
                ↻             ↻
                  ↻         ↻
                    ↻     ↻
                       ↻

As time ticks on, it pulls at this bandage. The cut feels bigger. We are all just walking towards the same ending. Death.

All our efforts to find meaning, to chase after joy, or to make our mark on the world are really just us pretending we can escape this end.

              ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
              ░░░░  pulling  ░░░░
              ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
                       ↓
                  ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
                  ▒  cut  ▒
                  ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
                       ↓
                       .
                       .

In reality, everything will be swallowed up by nothingness. Our laughter. Our tears. Our connections. Our pains. Leaving behind no proof that we ever went through any of this.

                  .  .  .  .
                .              .
              .                  .
            .       (        )     .
              .                  .
                .              .
                  .  .  .  .