A drop of insanity rolled into my cup of questionability. There was stillness, absolute stillness. What for must I pursue? What for must I continue? The rippling crises of chocolates and coffee that I can't share with you? Now I can't find the serene darkness I used to sink into. It's absolute. Neither grey, nor black and white, but a rainbow in a place where it doesn't belong. I try not to think of you. I try to ignore the random waves of impatience where I just want to jump on you. But you exist. No. You don't exist. You thrive inside me. You whisper the secrets we share when I am lost in public places. You hold my hand and kiss me when I cry. You lick the coffee of my lips, snatch the pastries from my hands. And I sit alone and laugh. I laugh while I cry. For what I sought I got, but I am not grateful still. I craved and cribbed for change, and change I got. But what about my birds? My books? When will I vent my theories and existential issues? Wait. Who are you? Are you my lover or my conscience or my sub-conscience? Or the woman I hide under the sheets when I sleep? Or the woman who jumped because she mistook a weird looking crow for a black vulture? Or the rebirth that recurred 11 times during the 3 seconds of a passing shooting star? Or is it simply you and your absence? Absence? No no no. You're the gramophone that plays all day in my room and you're the coffee beans I smell when I wake up and sleep. You exist and you live in me. I live you.
Suppression of my being or the blooming of my mind? So many questions and not a single answer. A wreckage of unstructured, chaotic questions with no outlet.
shit. I need to wake up and go exploring. I need to structure the unstructured to create space for more chaos, for I live because of it. The chaos wrecked unstructured questions.
You're here now. Close your shutters and absorb.
