#unbreakable cycle just trying to stay afloat!

[cojode]

being in your 20s is just

[silvashapeshifter]

.txt

I wish I could write something deep. Something that touches people in their heart, that makes them shed a tear. But I'm not that kind of writer. In fact, I'm not even a writer. But I'll try. So here's my letter.

Life's a long river.

But not a quiet river.

More of a torrent, actually.

I'm just floating, I stay afloat, I'm lucky,

But drowning awaits me.

It will eventually happen, a day.

I let myself be tossed around, passively.

One day, maybe, I'll hit an emerged rock

That will knock me down and kill me.

I don't like reality.

So I close my eyes and occupy my senses

To forget the mediocrity of my existence,

Of this whole universe's existence.

I maintain the lives of fictional characters

From my imagination only

Who will return to nothingness

When I will no longer be here.

I am deliberately mistaken, I delude myself into fiction.

I am criticized for being in my own world,

But aren't you tired of suffering

The one that was assigned to you ?

Stuck in an unbreakable cycle of soulless routine,

Music and daydreaming are my drugs...

But maybe also my cure.

In my head I'm who and what I want.

Too bad I'm unable to do choices.

Can't suffer the failure

I blame it always on others.

Frustration is my worst enemy,

Unless it's procrastination ?

I'm ruining my whole future by laziness of stubbornness.

In my mauve quartz world

I fly. I float. I wander.

I want to get lost. I don't want to go back.

Too much violence. Too much deceptions,

I have no faith in that life anymore.

Oh, light of world shaped by the power of my mind alone,

Take me into your womb and keep me forever.

Sweet delusion. I want you, I want to be in you.

Is that words lovers say ?

Romance has never been a thing,

Just a pale excuse for the human race to procreate.

The only loves are family and friends.

If I don't join you, sweet madness,

It's for them.

Death is flee, but such a comprehensible choice

But my mind could be my cocoon forever.

My body would only be a mindless walking corpse,

While my mind would be free.

Free me from here, that's not my reality,

Break the shell that my soul is locked in.

Break me. Break my mind, beautiful delirium.

They say the trumpets will sound the Last Judgment

But honestly, violins would be better.

Walking through the last corridor,

Retracing the thread of this life and previous ones.

What did I do? Not much, concretely.

But if you knew the universe I create for myself...

I will be the disembodied God of a kingdom of dust,

A pure product of my cortex,

Exhausted of the old reality.

Too many questions for too few answers.

The most important: who am I.

Will I ever know ?

I want to see myself through your eyes,

Distorted silhouette of a tiny fragment of mind.

Second: Do I have value.

Have I been helpful. Kind enough.

Too quiet or too noisy, often.

Like my mind.

So yes, denial is my escapism.

And this will be my last tirade.

Silent applause from empty seats

Of a vain spectacle without real spectators

And an actor who is their role and has forgotten who they were,

And curtain call.

This is not my farewell to everything ;

.

..

...

We'll see each other in another reality, perhaps.