i am war, i am peace, i fight i die, i lose i win. I am that which cannot be called out, yet each day time calls me to pay my dues. I owe the world nothing, it owes me my existence. I chose nothing, yet i choose to live each day. I write from the depth of my heart yet noone listens. I shout from the highest mountains and no ear is touched. I call it the silence of the noise, the decibels without recognition. The mouth without reputation. I rely on nothing, not on water not on air, for i am the living dead. The corpse of the battlefield and the guard of eternity. The son who is blessed by the same stone which curses him
I'm tired of living in this paradoxical existence, nothing is stable except for the elements of contradiction. My mind isn't comforted by anything, infact i worry about its state. This world is intoxicating. There is nothing to trust besides that change will occur and when this change does occur will i...will you be able to face it? Will you be able to stare into the eyes of the strange? Into the uncomforting image that offers nothing but instability, fundamentally paradoxical and built to destroy
I suppose the world by its very existence is paradoxical. The moon lights up the sky in the middle of the night. The sun distorts our eyesight. It goes against logic, maybe my idea of logic is wrong. It would explain a lot. That would offer clarity to what i see and say
