It contains no fuss, no distraction, just mrerely focus, concentration, eye contact, the ambience in it, that mantains the naturality of being, dip of silence, silence for the closest and intimate unknown, understand, how tiny we are.
There is nothing big blocking on the road. Straight, ordinarily-broad, happy, joyful pathway to the ever-peaceful land. The everland. Paradise. However, the roadside 'things' are doing something, distracting, annoying, yet I enjoyed every posture that they bring me, it intrigues me, into movements of my own. I don't have this consciousness that someday and somewhere I will have the possibility of being drop dead. Suddenly. Abruptly. Spontaneously. Noone knows about it. It may shock everyone around me and it has a direct relation with the range of my social circle. Maybe I won't influence the globe too much, don't bother people's life too much, just the matter of not existing. But, where will I be at that moment? I never questioned myself like that at that moment, when I am conditionally young and lost in some way, lost uncosciously. The dealt with temptation has somehow brought me into sub-consiousness and somehow brought me into a forest of uncertainty. I deteriorate,. wholly. I degrade people eaily and by sight. Eye-stripping candyy. This may have cause small impact on others but the games that I play in mind corrupt my whole system. My everything is in debt, mortgaged to this 'game'. I thought of quiting, but I can't. It has been a thing in my heart. To put it into words, in order to remove it thoroughly or rather in a sanitary way, I need something to replace it, not its role, but its position in my life. A great position that dominates my sight and how I look at the universe. And this 'someone' to replace this 'thing' has to be someone interesting, stable and powerful.
There is no Superman or Ninja Turtle to save my life. The popular culture has create total fantasies that enable us to pause for few moments from the mundane and 'Wall street' life. (so how'cha going, MR Wall street? Cracking pieces?), but for a long term indulgences, it ruins.
It has nothing to do with confessions, but reflection on my past. Nostalgic creepy pathway, below sea and above the sky. If only there is a day, where I can sleep for 10 hours a day, wake up at 10, have a cup of tea or juices maybe, plastered myself to the computer for hours, with a lil entertainment, how restless it can be. Everything I do it alone, boredom strikes in tasks of depression, raining clouds with moody sensation.
I wish it would rain soon. Maybe now,
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