An opening
One of those years I guess. To narrow it down to a day, a week, a month would be a mistake.
You in a course to find the universe and the universe keeps throwing stars and planets below the belt.
An illusion you've managed to keep close for some time now, but you can feel it running away this time. Running towards the true light and leaving you in fading memories of a once ablaze world of sensations and possibilities.
You carry the world in your head, you control everything that is happening around you, yet you haven't put yourself on the map of rightful existence. You linger like a ghost in other people's happiness and sadness unable to choose what you feel or want. You linger in your thoughts that lie about being your own. Lost.
It rips out your heart, it jumps on it till it's one with the mud. It rips out your brain and untangles your neurons to create the noose that binds your smile from breathing. Finally, it rips out your eyes. For after you have witnessed your own self-destruction, it's time to sleep and rest.
The universe laughs and applauds, the illusions' sun has left your bones in freezing temperatures, your heart smashed and your thoughts of friendship throw rocks at your halfway good performance of pretending to be one with the world.
Everything and everyone has left you behind. Yet you, foolish little thing, you try to get up and see with no eyes the darkness set, hoping it won't touch your heart.
You in a course to find the universe and the universe keeps throwing stars and planets below the belt.
An illusion you've managed to keep close for some time now, but you can feel it running away this time. Running towards the true light and leaving you in fading memories of a once ablaze world of sensations and possibilities.
You carry the world in your head, you control everything that is happening around you, yet you haven't put yourself on the map of rightful existence. You linger like a ghost in other people's happiness and sadness unable to choose what you feel or want. You linger in your thoughts that lie about being your own. Lost.
It rips out your heart, it jumps on it till it's one with the mud. It rips out your brain and untangles your neurons to create the noose that binds your smile from breathing. Finally, it rips out your eyes. For after you have witnessed your own self-destruction, it's time to sleep and rest.
The universe laughs and applauds, the illusions' sun has left your bones in freezing temperatures, your heart smashed and your thoughts of friendship throw rocks at your halfway good performance of pretending to be one with the world.
Everything and everyone has left you behind. Yet you, foolish little thing, you try to get up and see with no eyes the darkness set, hoping it won't touch your heart.
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