And they wonder why their nervous systems are in a state of perpetual crisis. It seems they take their superficial masks more seriously than they take their souls.
They love to categorize themselves in tiny boxes, – gender, race, religion, sexuality – then fight to defend their box. I imagine their spirits must feel quite claustrophobic. They chase after the illusion of desire yet don’t appreciate what they have. It’s almost like an addiction to the feeling of emptiness.
A belief that they are not complete without the acquisition of an external validation that is never found. This appears exhausting.
– words are vibrations
Related Blogposts
the immensity of loneliness is an empty note with no words letterless hence it can not be read never spoken of it merely lingers as an infinite singularity in the heart of existence . I leaned my forehead against your cold brick wall evoking the soundless roars behind the curtains…
/Flow