| a snapshot, what i am who am i now - this moment - this second. it doesn't matter. now, here and now is irrelevant - all that matters to them is them and future and what. so what then what of this nonsense, this sense of nothingness i'm afraid of nothing because i'm afraid of everything. i'm afraid of becoming nothing, living nothing. not living growing and nurturing a facade while the inside rots away dying and still being alive in the space... "...the worst kind of death, where the spirit dies first, and the husk goes on, clack-clacking afterwards..." it is possible to look up and never see clouds or sky it is possible to touch, kiss, and never love it is possible to live and die at once, But it shouldn't be. "To be or not to be..." the never ending question. "...to take arms against a sea of troubles..." i want to give up, but i can't muster the strength for apathy and de-sensitized acceptance. can't shut up long enough to speak never listen well enough to hear emotion lies beneath the surface, yet all that emerges is a contrived scribble all well planned out 'thoughts' -manipulation of self- divorce, distension, distaste, discern...defeat. continue? finish, complete, or just stop...? |
| This was an old English assignment... |