Infected Retrospect

I rest peacefully among strangers, just as the black rests so peacefully among the ivory. Strangers don't know, and with them I create a distance melodic hum; it's the soundtrack to the unknown which makes its existence so beautiful. Dancing silhouettes trapped within mirrors die behind my eyes, but they'll never know and this thought puts my mind at ease. It's a twisted comfort one can't really explain and can only understand through experience. This whole idea creates and environment so serene, yet so dangerous because just as they don't know, I know nothing of them. Love danced upon my fingertips; among those strangers I was unaware and so was he. Who know I would be the one to fall in love with fiction, a mere dressed up image of fantasy?

We are the insatiable. We, the children of god, show no mercy. Within the unknown lurks a mysterious desire to become aware, but we never really are truly aware, are we? Our lies cover truth and our secrets cover lies. At first glance, we take in what we see and believe what we subconsciously wish was the truth. Automatic judgment is a sickening creation of desire. We then trap those wishes in empty bottles, bottles that will be smashed and broken before our eyes once we become aware. They will spill our dreams, our secret wishes upon the concrete that have become a part of our corrupt human nature - a daily ritual we all mindlessly follow. Hush now, don't scream. The burn of passion is merely a disguise which masks the burn of pain - only after the fire does the ruthless wind bring the ashes to sting our eyes. What we as individuals believe to be reality blinds us, it only allows us to see the exterior being put up and never look deeper to see the truth. The pages of our story, our past, are now stained with everything we hate. The lights of our city crawl from the sky, one by one into the unknown darkness of hatred and fear. These lights are the bottled wishes, wishes with which we painted our sold out futures among the streets of silent romance. In the end, we're alone. We're always alone, and the unknown darkness is our future.

Love is absolute self-destruction.