Late night sober silence. Doing the dishes like a Rembrandt. This rare clarity overwhelms my dichotomies, and I become anxious that it will disappear. I dreamt I was in a fog like the kind you never really get to experience. Found myself there without opinions. Thinking that nature doesnt maintain laws, only accrues habits. The guilty are as futile as the righteous. Nobody seems to know how to proceed in such moments. They write manifestos with a smoking tip of a cigarette. A suitable utensil to proclaim your plan within a fleeting moment of lucidity. At least more suitable than a facebook status. I interpret my life like a book read backwards. Trains of thought like this dont end in train wrecks. The train merely disappears along with its passengers. Im tempted to make proclamations, but in my experience drastic change occurs swift and silent. I cant seem to undo this awareness Ive amassed. Ignorance isnt bliss when youre in pain. I cant deny it as hard as I try. It simply finds new avenues of expression. Identities multiply until you become shrouded in a fog of belief. To others you are but smoke and mirrors, and they become you. Everything is as real as it is illusion. Eventually you just end up saying yes or no, and then ___________________________________
Posted on: Thu, 26 Jun 2014 06:22:16 +0000
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