I sit here stagnant in a wasteland of my own thoughts. My mind is a dark bottomless chasm with a powerful torrent of ideas chasing through its channels but with no outlet. Time simply marches on and is unbiased toward my lack of direction.
I still continue on though wondering why I started.
I’m captive to my very own expressions that avoid all eyes including mine.
In an endless wave of nothingness my creativity is slashed like the throats of cattle herded in for the final slaughter. As if buckets of blood that rain down from the blades of truth, my inspirations drip from my heart and never reach me. Soon, nothingness becomes everything and barricades my feelings behind closed doors without keys.
I still continue on though wondering why I started.
I keep wandering about in search of something to bring me out of this frustrating mess of delusional mysteries which make no sense but seem so true . All the roads are in fact lit but which one do you choose when you’re walking direction less without purpose or reason? Every path is straight and wants you to walk down it for it self is lonely like you.
I still continue on though wondering why I started.
Will you help me find myself?
