05:00 P.M:Wonder about the nature of love, of solitude, and myself. Contemplate on the waxing and waning of these feelings in my life and wonder if it is a doomed cycle
06:00 P.M: Stare across the skyline and marvel at the constructs of man. At these testaments to us, and how millions of years after we are gone, these concrete and steel towers of babel will remain to remind others of what we once were
07:00 P.M: Look at the beginnings of the moon showing in the still blue sky, and think about the sheer joy that humanity must have felt as a collective when we first set foot on it. Then I lament that we lost the sense of wonder for the sake of the future.
08:00 P.M: Look into a crowd and see a person who probably isn't the Cosmo girl definition of beauty, but who seems to float through the grey husks of what are left of people like a Will 'O Wisp
09:00 P.M: I think back about my family. I call home to apologize for being such a shitty kid and not appreciating what I got. No one answers the phone.
10:00 P.M: I catch the glance of a stranger who looks at me with nothing but contempt. Is this an unseen nemesis, someone who's lifetime objective is my end, or a silent witness to my sins of the past?
11:00 P.M: I strip myself naked and try to wash myself clean. I look at myself and try and find something I like. It feels like I'm black market window shopping.
12:00 A.M: I try and look at today as it will be when I am an old man. How will the trials and tribulations of the world be looked at? I try and be optimistic, but I feel heavy. No matter how hard I try, things do not seem as they will ever be okay again. It's a good thing I'm stubborn and will try anyway.
01:00 A.M: I think of my beast. I remind myself about trusting it. I haven't been listening often enough, and it is not until now that I realize this. Millions of years of evolution should be trusted before twenty-three years of conditioning.
02:00 A.M: Dissect my defense mechanisms. My practiced stoicism. My proffessional detatchement. My long healed soulectomy. I still have it in a jar somewhere, catalogued and indexed for reference.
03:00 A.M: I try and remember the faces and the voices of people. Time has blurred them, I think.
04:00 A.M: I think of a phone call and am amazed at the warmth and happiness it brought through the miles upon miles of cable.
05:00 A.M: Was I sleeping? Had I slept? Has all of this been a dream? The surreality of the real supplants my rationality. Uncertain insanity pours in through the cracks in the foundation, filling any space it can with an inky mire.
Sun up: A new day. A world of opportunity and mystery lie ahead to experience. For all of it's miseries and over-thinkings, it's great to be alive.
06:00 P.M: Stare across the skyline and marvel at the constructs of man. At these testaments to us, and how millions of years after we are gone, these concrete and steel towers of babel will remain to remind others of what we once were
07:00 P.M: Look at the beginnings of the moon showing in the still blue sky, and think about the sheer joy that humanity must have felt as a collective when we first set foot on it. Then I lament that we lost the sense of wonder for the sake of the future.
08:00 P.M: Look into a crowd and see a person who probably isn't the Cosmo girl definition of beauty, but who seems to float through the grey husks of what are left of people like a Will 'O Wisp
09:00 P.M: I think back about my family. I call home to apologize for being such a shitty kid and not appreciating what I got. No one answers the phone.
10:00 P.M: I catch the glance of a stranger who looks at me with nothing but contempt. Is this an unseen nemesis, someone who's lifetime objective is my end, or a silent witness to my sins of the past?
11:00 P.M: I strip myself naked and try to wash myself clean. I look at myself and try and find something I like. It feels like I'm black market window shopping.
12:00 A.M: I try and look at today as it will be when I am an old man. How will the trials and tribulations of the world be looked at? I try and be optimistic, but I feel heavy. No matter how hard I try, things do not seem as they will ever be okay again. It's a good thing I'm stubborn and will try anyway.
01:00 A.M: I think of my beast. I remind myself about trusting it. I haven't been listening often enough, and it is not until now that I realize this. Millions of years of evolution should be trusted before twenty-three years of conditioning.
02:00 A.M: Dissect my defense mechanisms. My practiced stoicism. My proffessional detatchement. My long healed soulectomy. I still have it in a jar somewhere, catalogued and indexed for reference.
03:00 A.M: I try and remember the faces and the voices of people. Time has blurred them, I think.
04:00 A.M: I think of a phone call and am amazed at the warmth and happiness it brought through the miles upon miles of cable.
05:00 A.M: Was I sleeping? Had I slept? Has all of this been a dream? The surreality of the real supplants my rationality. Uncertain insanity pours in through the cracks in the foundation, filling any space it can with an inky mire.
Sun up: A new day. A world of opportunity and mystery lie ahead to experience. For all of it's miseries and over-thinkings, it's great to be alive.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Keep balancing the melancholy with optimism, that's what life's about...
Thanks for the beautiful words...
--l*P