Who am I? I am a world of complexities. Discover my riddles and lose yourself in their confusion.
So many metaphors in life. So many bouncing thoughts. Distractions plague such deep thought, dragging me back up to that poisoned surface. I yearn for that icy touch dragging me down into such a beautiful sea of deep blue slumber. Death? Why wish for something whose caress is so inevitable anyways? He will find me one day and ask me to join his seductive dance that my soul will have no choice but to accept.
I’m such a stubborn, pouting child refusing to help such changes.
My writings are always better when written from the soul. I can’t go on about random subjects as deeply because really I’m just not feeling it. What I do feel doesn’t just come from the top of my head. It comes from a land much deeper than the physical realm’s palm could ever reach. It’s a desolate, mystical land only I have inside me. That true something that really sets me apart from everyone else. It’s a system of crystallized caves of the deepest blue; it’s a land of knowledge and isolation, and the only place that the outside can’t touch. It makes me who I am and separates me from all these other lost souls. I always wonder if others think the same way I do. I can tell that some deserve such thought, but there are also plenty that just seem empty of such depth. A part of me sometimes believes they do, but another just can’t really wrap my mind around it and believe it to be true. They go about their lives in such robotic manners. They never notice the lives they scar, but at the same time their not self-centered. It’s just as if their eyes aren’t opened to the true world around them. Beautiful orbs wasted on soulless minds.
So many metaphors in life. So many bouncing thoughts. Distractions plague such deep thought, dragging me back up to that poisoned surface. I yearn for that icy touch dragging me down into such a beautiful sea of deep blue slumber. Death? Why wish for something whose caress is so inevitable anyways? He will find me one day and ask me to join his seductive dance that my soul will have no choice but to accept.
I’m such a stubborn, pouting child refusing to help such changes.
My writings are always better when written from the soul. I can’t go on about random subjects as deeply because really I’m just not feeling it. What I do feel doesn’t just come from the top of my head. It comes from a land much deeper than the physical realm’s palm could ever reach. It’s a desolate, mystical land only I have inside me. That true something that really sets me apart from everyone else. It’s a system of crystallized caves of the deepest blue; it’s a land of knowledge and isolation, and the only place that the outside can’t touch. It makes me who I am and separates me from all these other lost souls. I always wonder if others think the same way I do. I can tell that some deserve such thought, but there are also plenty that just seem empty of such depth. A part of me sometimes believes they do, but another just can’t really wrap my mind around it and believe it to be true. They go about their lives in such robotic manners. They never notice the lives they scar, but at the same time their not self-centered. It’s just as if their eyes aren’t opened to the true world around them. Beautiful orbs wasted on soulless minds.
