Churnings of the Mind Pressing of the Times

Myself and I

Im left alone in a room with myself.

I look at her as she stares back at me.

Staring intently into her eyes, I long to know wht she sees.

Is it self loathing or insecurities?

What is this emotion that torments me?

Is it anger? Is it unsatisfaction? Complete frustration? Or just a desire to be free?

I sit and stare sometimes allowing my mind to wonder... cutting its chains ... loosing it from reality ...

At that very moment, when im trapped within my own eyes ... the truth ogoling both of us.

I began to face the truth of my demise.

The sencerity of it pains my heart, as well as stirs my soul.

The knowledge alone makes me oddly weak, but to know that either way i have control intencifies my tenacity.

Dispondency pours from my heart and though its not a good feeling it makes its mark.

Motivates the both of us to continue our batter for better......

Churnings of the Mind Pressing of the Times

Ramblings of a slight true maniac, heart of a hopless romantic.

Visions of  possible prophet, sometimes i feel that ive lost it ... sanity ... Ever fleeting sanity ... sweetly decieving sanity ... Barely ... rarelly meeting sanity.

Living vividely, stradeling a thin line ... happily.

Id rather live out loud in color than to merely exist in menotinous grey. id rather live through blissful love rather than smother my light till it wastes away.

Our way of life fools us ... almost trains us from a young age ... that rgularity is acceptable.

Teaches us to muffle our cries ... Teaches us to stiffel curiosities ... Teaches us to smother our screams ... walk in in neat lines untill we die.

Crying out in the night I shake myself from dreams o large metal hands clamped over my mouth ...      

Dreams of large metal drones burning crops and causidng drouts ... Herded like animals we ...