Surrounded
by strangers. Why am I here, constantly my mind drifts to death, the release I
know I don’t need but can not stop seeking, dying. Things turned real a long time
ago, anther step forward as the hours continues to reflect back, always a new
one releasing the old.
Mindless
drifters passing in and out of my vision. Grey eyes, pale skin. Tired
disappointments and rejecting stares, thoughts of what to come and what was
left behind. Careless self preservation lets the barricade stand firm against
wanting intruders. Drifters with love and life nearby surely, mornings with
tasks ahead and a life to prolong. All masters of their own universe. Useless,
dead and unwanted in time, ones time.
Understanding
the matter of self, zero is nil. A new day is appearing, another cycle complete
to start over again. All is standing still, time a measurement of controlling
the timeless moment.
Ω
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