and should i embrace this…
this struggle?
surely this disgust must mean something to the rest of the world! At which point of time did we become such strangers, eyes looking past, always looking past that blank face of yours. But ah, is this not ultimately the only means of escape through the heavy curtains, black, velvet, weighing down fold upon fold upon fold?
you see, it is that one path which promises,
finally, finally,
the lit-up earth.
Hence, the timid approach and the striving against the Machine–this mechanism that mindlessly ascribes all value (its rule continues to remain unchallenged). to my corners i may resign turning my attentions/affections to fragmented aspirations alone in hushed and forlorn secrecy, all the while gripping my knuckles with conscious effort.