My words come from dictionaries I've checked. Phrases, carboned into my thoughts along the texts I've read. Ideas, contorted along the lines of rationality that I have come to understand... I add them all up, and shake them all around... Here it lies, my gallimaufrey thoughts...
I am just bending words and twisting thoughts. I'm a magician, but not of the illusionary sort, I create thoughts against my oxymoronic state, against the societal norms my ancestors has brought down. I used old ideas, mixed them with new ideas, to form my ideas. I delete obsolete knowledge but kept an archive of it somewhere in my brain to relate to the new things I see every day... Then I came to this place, get them all sorted out and put it into words so people could possibly understand. These words I type, these entries I published... They are just abstracts of me in other people's words...
As I stare into the void of darkness, I could feel the darkness enshrouding me, swallowing me slowly... Then, all my thoughts just sink into the silence, my struggle tarrying to the still of night. All has left me, except this tranquil peace of mind... No more emptiness, no more pain, no more heartaches... Just this serenity that soothes my soul in its endless skirmish against her and love.
I'm tired... Exhausted... Enervated... I just want to fade away...
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