This is my page you can’t call it your own. It can’t leave me because it relies on me to write for centuries that have left behind billions of obituaries and it can go to hell. I start again and build what communists destroy, I liberate what imprisons me by continuing to go ford despite the shallow depths and unbelievable lengths I suffer to discover that’s exactly what they are. Time is instantaneous but a lie just the same. I don’t believe it ever passes or continues it’s infinite and isolated never moving an inch. It’s our minds that believe we can calculate what is not ours to bait and entrap in photographs with captions underneath that fail to realize it wasn’t the day that changed only the circumstances. I feel obligated to succeed by being productive but all that breeds are distractions. The only success in life is mastering you and finding joy in nothing at all. I haven’t reached the half mark yet but I continue to go forth not begrudgingly of course – there is always something to contemplate and let be known. The humor I find most enthralling is the kind that depicts tragedy it’s the only way we cope, guilt be damned as no good ends on that note. I can relate to whatever you throw my way because I’m empathetic and extremely self-reflective a sword which hasn’t cut me so far but I have a long way to go. I love how we don’t know and hate it as well. The cliché about life and writing is the fact they're both oxymoron’s that label everything a contradiction. I see in grey, I hate those blacks and whites. The only final is death, the utmost absolute truth everything else is our perspective which is skewed and renewed depending on our mood. Your confidence is a lie to help you through knowing the world is out of your control and there is no one that can help you understand your role even if you think you do. I don’t like dogs because they jump on top of me and they drool which is unfair because when I sleep it’s a sore sight to see but that’s the way it is because it can be. We can do, make and believe whatever we want so if you’re miserable you should try something else. I am alive though I’ve been surrounded by death and that makes the world a beautiful place in some twisted kind of way. You learn to love and let go. You are blessed to remember and console. Imagine if we had no one to miss and no reason to be missed? A sad state of affairs I would imagine not that those are good but sometimes people need to shake things up a bit. Nothing escapes change or ending so perhaps extra-marital affairs are a good thing. Oh, blessed be the silver lining the carries me on a cloud that I haven’t fallen through so I know I’ll never fall just float and rise, rid myself of disguise and accept the world for what it is: chaotic and mysterious. I thought I was finished but there’s still room left on Mircosoft word when I change the size of the font.. It kinda pissed me off ‘cause I thought I had finally accomplished a challenge of sorts but now you see how I’m feeling more than you would have if I stopped right there. So if you’re stuck keep going ‘cause there is always somewhere with room for you and there is always something left for you.
