This melancholy seems to creep with intention whilst today becomes tomorrow and i lose more and more precious time with myself. surely i musnt be alone in these pangs facing turbulent relationships in a vessel of misled ambiguity. flowing and reaching only within what feels sound to my present; i should learn to pierce beyond what i myself have already seen, and thus petended to know.
Could there be an end to this road at any age or place in spacetime? i feel this stagnance is of my own procrastination as day after day life and love slip from my fancy toward something cold and mechanical.
No comments:
Post a Comment