Listening to: Danse Macabre in G minor, Op. 40
flowing gently - streams of time. ACK. flowing, amidst the vibrations - we all dance to the steps of such a universal plays. A ball, cinderella or beaty or the beast. Coming together and apart, chandelieres glistening like the flash of broken christmas lights.
Graves and yards, stone together and drafted, the waltzing of the spirits floating down the alleyways of my mind. Terminal velocity of the flow - my thoughs in spirals of soundwaves like the pull of the moon to the sea. Crashing floward, gently back. What ghosts dwell upon the prickling of our composure? the kiss of death meets the sunrise of a concioussness. They are lovers. Darkness and light melding into the hills and the dips of the earth, where the mountians meet the sky.
What do we call these points of convergence? chaos - full, rapid beating of my heart like adrenaline shooting through my veins i cannot stop i cannot breath and it comes out in a continuous spiril descent to madness i am not crazy i am not - wait. exhale. what shall come to pass, peace. no. the illusion of it.