Dear, I’m not quite sure who yet,
I find myself in a literal entrapment of utter confusion, which you I must admit are the very root source and cause of. Now before you feel offended, or perhaps a little confused yourself, let me assure you that this confusion which you wash over me like a maverick is more than pleasantly received, as much as it kills me.
How so, you may wonder? It is this very confusion, this very ripping and piecing together of my bare emotions, which keeps me churning, spinning, out of control, and ultimately asking myself, what is the point of control? You can’t control life, so why control this? Even if I wanted to, I knew it would be a vain hope, something to pass the time of life, something to make me feel safe and sound, something to keep me anchored here on the ground.
I’ve been lying in my bed for the past 120 minutes, feeling the seconds slip by one by one, as the murky realm claims those who are willing, and leaves me stranded in a place between. I have tossed the coins, I have sought spiritual counsel, but these things steal me only further from the truth, for when the night does finally come to claim, there can only be one, from two not the same.
I have glimpsed what may be future paths, or perhaps lies I have invented to tame the winds. For the confusion may be pleasant to me now, but what sailor enjoys a treacherous storm, which rips all apart, in a fiery rage? It is the seabreeze so fresh and free, which drives my heart, but tame it I was forced to, for I was feeding from an immoral feast, where those who cooked were paid with broken dreams, and rushed away at the slightest seems.
And as I write, I am no more closer to an answer than a stargazer is to the stars. I wish it were as easy as following a true desire, but as foolish as I may be I know too well the brightest fire, that which meddles, is the ability to achieve, and not the undying pull, leaving me restless like a thieve.
The f****** universe