There is a eerie silence before the storm, then the gods of wrath descend and tear apart the fabric of life, continuity, saneness, that binds us together and then there is eerie silence once more..
It feels that the storm has not abated still the winds can start blowing any time now trees will be uprooted and houses torn apart Inhabitants will become vagabonds again heavens will open up and cry floods lightning will strike the place we hide..
Eerie silence has descended on me the void inside me is very quiet now waiting for the next onslaught of emotions waiting for the fury to be unleashed can I drown in this slush of my own making can I sleep for sometime before I burn..
Do I have a choice before knifing the page for a meaning, when I was drowned in a nostalgia? Cinchona bark. This was my keyword for living bitterly under a tryant inciting the riots of colors. The digital death comes
It’s here, and then it’s not. That untimely moment that we fear our minds have just ‘forgot’ who we are, and why we’re here. Why did we never reach that bar? We’re no longer our own puppateer. In the past
I chose silence not because I didn’t have an opinion. I chose silence not because I didn’t have thoughts. I chose silence not because I couldn’t express my feelings. I chose it… because that’s the only option I had! I
Yes, your name was sliced off from the impasse. I will stand with you to track the continental drift. How little I knew about you and the prosthetic words. Again and again I return to ruins, and the dust and