Even as I
write this, I am trembling and screaming bloody murder internally.
I do not want
to be in this situation anymore.
It is too
pompous, pretentious, and disturbing.
I found the
entire fake self-assurance droll as drowning in a sea of ennui.
How little we
are, and how little we think of the world.
True, in its
infinite state, we are nothing comparable to insignificant iotas.
But what they
do not foolishly know and blatantly ignore in its glorious face,
is that the
sum of the parts is indeed greater than the whole.
I fear it is
too late for me, too desecrated for sanctuary,
too temporal
for tranquility and serenity.
Oh, Serenity,
serenity – how bittersweet a glimpsing taste it leaves on my tongue.
Insanity is
what it is.
Insanity to
choose, insanity to feel, sheer insanity to live
As I lay my
weary head for the close, cooling embrace of slumber,
I have only
one thought in the vacuous space of a mind.
For the sake
of all that is decent and good,
Will it never
cease and desist?
Will it remain
or resist?
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