There are times in which I have to get something on my mind out there. I don't care how strange anyone can find it; if you read this bear it, if you hate it forget. Days go by like anyone else. Yet, I have come to the realization of the terror my own thoughts bring me. The many times which I try to force a moment, a word a conversation in those brief silences in between living. So many images, words, music, dreams and ideas run rampant in me. They come crashing, crushing me under its bearing pressures. I have drown one too many times and forgotten the taste of the air before I fell.One thought most of all comes up often without consideration or virtue; mortality. In those short moments, I grew darker as my eyes go unfocused into the sight of what it is to come. Dread becomes this wishful thought as I feel worried about being unfettered by any of the bonds I have made in life. In my own head, I am enveloped in the tapestries of despair and torment. It is the truth of anyone to think like this, but I fear it happens to me daily. Yet, I do not fear the process of death in its entirety rather the sense of not existing for a purpose, the many small moments of comfort and the fleeting notions of having a thought kills me in so many ways. I honestly have gone on to think of being this tattered piece of cloth waiting to come undone to the point of not having an origin.
Either way I know when the worlds ends, it ends when we die. When you or I is not able to be or know of things in this world as the time comes, it is the end of things and all into unknown night.
"The great and glorious masterpiece of man is how to live with a purpose"---
---Montaigne----
No comments:
Post a Comment