Revolve.

We can keep running or we can sit there and try to make sense of what is happening to us. It sounds like a choice but it really isn't. We must do what we have to considering the situation we are in. We can't freeze time but nor should we freeze ourselves. We can't let everything else revolve around us because sometimes we have to revolve too. Evolve. Involve. Solve. Resolve. But what do we do? We dissolve. And we cry about it but no one hears us. Muffled by denial and ignorance. Story of our lives but let's change the ending. We can. Really. All we have to do is not hand them the pen.

Catch.

No matter how much of ourselves we throw out there, someone has to be willing to catch us. Every bit of us. If they don't catch or haven't learned how to, that is no good to us. Why do we surround ourselves with such people though? It is a mockery. It is hurtful because as we lose pieces of ourselves hoping to be rejoined in better harmony, sometimes all that happens is that we just lose parts of us that we will never gain back. As tragic as that sounds, we should never try to refrain from trying. You never know who is on the other end of that throw, waiting to catch you at every angle, every distance, every height, at every moment.

Euphoria introduction

A little tighter grip. A cozier hug. A wetter kiss. And we think we have it all in our hands and that nothing can go wrong. That is euphoria and it is an illusion. It is unreal and that is what makes it to prominent in our minds.. In our hearts. This world can't sustain itself this way. A tripping concept but it is what it is. You have another theory? Sure you do but theories don't always work the way we would want them to. And that is real.

Done.

There are times when living becomes difficult. A challenge. It becomes the hardest task to stay alive, to stay away from danger, to keep yourself breathing. Obstacles over obstacles. It gets overwhelming. You can't think. You can't hear yourself exist. You think you are blending in, with all the heat, with all the noise. You may be just a background. Smearing into the humidity. Fearing everything while you search for order. Order for guidance. You have never been so lost. That was me today. How was your day?

Sick people

We are sick people and we will never be satisfied. We have anger that brews in our hearts. Our disappointments and sadness spice up our resentments.  We are corrupted as they come, gnawing at ankles so people can't walk. How can we expect an unreactive reaction? I am sorry, but are we expecting a slap of silence? Humility in their stares? An attack through their stillness? That is ridiculous. That isn't real. You know what is real? This world is real. Real as we can be, creating illusions to face reality. To show what is true... by masking in deception. I hate this world. I hate us. I hate what we become, every day that passes by. I hate what we come across just because of what we lay on the paths of others.

Room for room

They always say make room for this or that. We need to make room for room. Take the time to see if we can allow ourselves to wind down and come up with ways to fit in more.  To keep including. To keep inviting and letting more and more impact you. That is something we must prepare ourselves for. Otherwise, if we skip this step, we will find ourselves rushing through. Confused. Questioning why we aren't getting enough time to put enough in us. Let's take a breather. Let's wrap ourselves in creaming orders so we can rub it in our pores. Let it smoothen out our ridges and melt away friction.

Shadows

I don't remember when's the last time I danced with my shadow. The last time I let it slip from underneath me. Or the last time I let it lead me. The thoughts conjure up and I become more and more hesitant about what is real, what is divine, and what is just. Nothing is balanced but we strive for it anyways. We end up so unhappy though. Perhaps such sadness is justified by a damaged soul and a crippled shadow.

Out loud...

Whispers seem quiet, yet they scream in your ear. So loud, you are deafened with sound. We go on in this life keeping everything so low key, so hush hush, that sometimes we become an open book. Our pages flip at their fingertips, our edges bend when they want to remember. We think we control us, that we control the base. What good does it do? What good can it do? Our lives are run by their rules. Our secrets are piercing loud, ripping silence into crumbs. We are just specks at the end of the day. We remain quiet so they can hear us shouting. We look away just to make eye contact with guilt. We sigh so softly, just to cry it out. We show the cleanliness just to be stained with hate. What good can we do? Not much, you see. We are secrets that are raped by ears, abused by tongues, and whored by lips. We are so loud. Out and about, no matter how buried we remain.

Obsession

It becomes hard to differentiate what obsession is, what love is, what infatuation is, what a friendship is and so on. They all intermingle and sometimes that leads to something so wonderful. It is an experience that tells one a lot about oneself. It reveals beautiful secrets, images, emotions while also exposing internal fears. While it may become too distorted to keep watching, there is nothing else to do. You watch yourself become this beautiful nightmare. You try to grip reality while you take bliss in losing control. It is a struggle to live in the moment but almost detrimental to even think about escape. Sometimes we need to let go, to let free, to let ourselves destroy the other half so we can live in peace.