A quick ramble while starring into the sky.
| There's this moment in time where life seems to grasp its own consciousness. Where reality grabs hold of the unbearable truth we seem to dismiss at each opportunity. To live is not without its suffering, as we all come to know, yet it has an elusive factor that leaves us questioning its own motives.
To unhinge my thoughts from the grapples of inferiority I must mask myself from inner dialog. The freedom of senses awaits those who patiently seek the unknown, in ways mastered it may seem untruthful to do so. A tipping point becomes the experience, manifesting oneself into various shapes of fluidity. No worse than the moment before, timeless words within myself.
I hear the feelings inside, evading the love that effortlessly permeates my being. No matter the cost I must pay to understand, an importance must be born. Leftover from hate, the lingering pathway of solitude, I beg myself to scream, unheard, unseen, acknowledged at the thump of a drunken corpse. Breath wildly in turn of hate, the bitterness I chew from reality, its pain.