I would often say
“I can’t do that; otherwise, my conscience will kill me”
I thought I was conscious when I said that, may be I was?
I wrote a poem once about time being life
Every sec I give to someone, I give a bit of my life
Some days I feel drained.
There is no right and wrong, yet there is. Is it an illusion? Does it become an illusion when there’s lack of love? or vice versa, when there’s love there’s an illusion?

Thanks for sharing.