Tuesday, January 6, 2015

All I think and feel is clutter. I don't exactly know what was broken but I can only hypothesize that it was an invisible matter, of a significant size or made from a material that was sparse and scatters easily. As soon as I try to pick up the pieces, gravity hands me more remnants.

When will the dust settle? If I don't know the resolve, what use is strength. How do you fight an invisible battle? What and who are you fighting? Is this all dark matter?

Perplexed. Don't know how it ends, much less how it begins. I suppose that that which is without beginning has no end. Then am I in a place of constant?

A constant discomfort. A constant thirst. Do you only learn about what things are through what they aren't? Is my measuring scale one of loss and ingratitude? I guess I could only be at the other end of the spectrum and learn what it is, through what its not. Still, in an imbalance. Never knowing how to tip the scales. Leave the lifting to the heavyweights, for I have no strength nor muscle. 

I try to search for meaning but in this pursuit, I find emptiness. The space behind my eyes. I see nothing when those windows shut. A star that dies in my iris is a closed door beauty I will never discover, much less understand.

Don't know what's out there. Don't know what's in here. I am only a medium. One of disconnect. So I disconnect.

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