We are all so fragile in this world.

Hanging by every breath.

Looking towards a future that only ends.

What is life without sorrow, or grief. If it’s anything, it is nothing we know.

What to give in to:

hopelessness, despair

cherished moments

Time, is the dripping of a leaky hose, unable to be plugged.

We are rolling, better hang on, otherwise the fall seems dizzying.

Time spent or time wasted.

Fool’s sayings giving peace in forms appealing to those that cling to them.

Everyone is alone inside.

While nothing in this existence satiates the loneliness or the misunderstanding, we seek comfort.

Comfort is found where comfort is offered.

There is nothing more.

This world isn’t cruel, it’s only the world. And we, members of it. We exist in this world and obey it’s rules, but we are not limited to mere subjects of it.

Feudalism died ages ago.

So we make habits of our existence, creating peace amongst the horror.

Choice, is our gift.

Life, is full of rules and limitations.

May the boundaries continue to be rearranged.

Forgetful, or wanting to remember.

A stroke of the pen, soft scratches on paper, texture and sound in the silence.

Reaching, for a feeling, for an urge, for a motivation so I don’t have to drive myself.

Always looking for a reason is the conclusion I’ve drawn of emptiness.

A paper covered in white, full of intention and time, looked at and seen as nothing.

Emptiness.

A void full, forever empty except from my own eyes, seeing fire.

Flames on the sand, a burning sensation of noise as the ocean fills my head, before awakened, from my stupor.

With blunt force.

What am I doing, who am I doing it for.

A rock sits watching in front of me, waiting for my next move, you move first,

I tell it.

Of course it doesn’t.