Looking for something, not sure what it is.
Lately, I have been feeling like I need to get lost in something. You know the kinda feeling where you are just lost in the motion and don’t feel anything around you but the presence of just being.
Like eyes closed, dancing to your favorite song in the dark. Not caring if the motions are weird, you are just lost in the music!
Like that, everyday!
Does that make sense?🤔
Let see if getting lost in a book will do the trick đź’
Where will your pride take you?
Beware,
You’re riding on the waves of your ego.
Know this,
Even the waves has an end
Short lived, sporadic sprouts of force
But to what end?!
Flat and deprived of life.
For a moment.
Oh to have lived!
Can’t you see, we are nothing
Life is fleeting,
Right before your dead eyes.
Won’t you wake up?!
Spring has sprung, the flowers are pretty again.
Even harsh waves still makes an exquisite picture.
Speak to me
You are barely living
Tell me you want more
This too shall pass, I promise.
Hold on to what you believed, just like you told me.
Remember when we lived life
The feeling of youthful bliss, cascading.
This sadness is a chore, my friend
there are holes in all of us,
but we must carry on.
Oh to be alone!
Before I come back,
Am heading home
Solo!
Dancing in a yellow light
Oblivious to world around
It’s just me, myself and the blues
As I should.
Go that way,
I will take the long way down
I will find my way around.
I saw a glimpse and I don’t like what I see,
The dissonance is draining, so
Am going back in, into myself
Basking in my solitude, sublime!
It takes a while to come back out,
So don’t hold your breath.
“This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel.”
Horace Walpole
In a dark room with surround sound music, playing alternative/indie music. Sitting in your favorite spot, relaxed, eyes closed and a little tipsy.
Peace/Torture
Fragile mind
I don’t want to be described as strong or virtuous or any adjective that more or less describes the subtle art of perfecting suffering.
Hear Hear
I always thought I didn’t have an addictive trait or personality; boy, did I underestimate the incessant need to forget.
GallopingCrazy 