Friday, October 12, 2012
Words like violence.
Drifting, swiftly.... wandering through infinity.
My mind tries to breach the pollution of life, but sanctuary, I fear, is a forgotten place.
No thought is pure, every synapse fired by an alien source.
Words like violence,
notes bearing knives...
I wonder how anyone could hope to have an original thought in such a stimulation-driven world.
If ever there was a time to envy the deaf and blind, I envy you now.
For I have seen true beauty, and heard the modest music of nature... But never will I know the sound of my own thoughts congealing, and never will I see the the evolution of an idea in my own minds eyes.
Those days are done for me, unless fortuitous discovery grants me a new sanctuary.
And until such time I sing...
Words like violence.