quarta-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2011

A one way street into Spring

Fall even more in this affinity, create immunity to this world, all rotten and cruel. Even if the skies reflect the blue of the ocean, even if the skies cry during months and start a new cycle of green pastures, all is the same down here, every ray of the Sun, every day of warmth, an illusion.
And is Winter once again, in this dark grey covered earth, life continues the same. Day passes by in, spinning around and around, making me sick, grasping for air. This life is the coffin I've been searching to possess, your life is what I've been eager to caress. All day goes away, turning pitch dark, no more a reflection of the seas but a projection of the world's solitude. And even now the night grows bigger outside, the rain falling, the sound of it's purity forcing itself upon this room and conquering the mind. I'm dominated by the cruelty of the fall.
Even now the dark walks in and enlightens my mind. I turn on the light and it's gone. No inspiration that allows me to drive away and escape from this place. So I gaze hopelessly to the wall, white in it's eternal dimension. Time doesn't answer my questions and life doesn't lend me the time to get the answers. So I forget to sleep, I feed on the disease that is eating my insides and I try to cover up my ignorance by rare groups of words that the world sees as a window to my soul. But no one is here to buy my thoughts and I don't care for anyone to synchronize with my feelings. I don't want to be a clone of others or a mirror of my past self. I try to move forward but the bright and the genius don't want to see their names involved with the likes of me.
A pit where I fall is a crown of thorns that I allow a lower being to wear. So he becomes a martyr, in all his hypocrisy and lies, he drowns in a deserved pool of blood. I conceived the spear that ran through his heart and made his life into a piece of art that the stupid humans believe to be a true life story and the smart humans use it to control the stupid humans with fear and hate. But now he's nowhere to be found. The stupid remain stupid, the smart turn against each other and I walk beside the fight, the same road that I've been walking for years. A one way street into Spring.

1 comentário:

Blewmethod disse...

A primavera é fofinha.