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There is only one way to see everything...
Portions of the days flood through my vision like the rain racing down my window panes. I’ll sit in my room, with my books and my paper and I will wait. I’ll step out into the wind, with my lighter and my chemicals and I will wait. Find balanced ideas within new aspects that I had yet been able to see; claims and promises both broken and kept allow for new growth out of the withering bark.
The past. Seeming so long ago what was mere months. I keep telling myself ‘time seems to be moving faster as I age’, well maybe that number we’ve chosen to assign ourselves with is nothing more than the speed that your life’s record is spinning at. But my family is still blinded by a priest. Or a demon. Who knows?
Still we can’t get clean, we’ve all been laying in beds with dirty things, and other hedonic activities. Oh, the sight we’ve seen. Like blades slicing the upper eyelids.