Understanding in the darkest of places, seeing everyone and their many faces, spoiled in mind or it'll be spoiled through time, to have without knowing or to go without growing, what a simple thing, one could get lost within the very folds of a book whilst they themselves are the only one turning the pages. A gift to have been given and would one have removed again for the thought of a less complex state, but if not why? For that which is simple always has sway, for a path less traveled seems darker even in daylight unless inside the light is brighter than that which may consume from all around. Then the desire to be consumed, what a thought. The love to overtake but not be overtaken by that which surrounds amidst such a interwoven mass connection to feel alone and in space when there is absolutely no space to breath and fantasy is only able to be that which is unattainable instead of a manifestation of hard work and trials. Why lock oneself away unless to cut yourself out is the goal and thusly a good means to an end, what an end and what even is an end though for the base of thought process has no end.
