"My palace in which all was a fact, it hasn’t crumbled, it hasn’t dimmed, my plan has been left untouched." Back then I did have a plan, sort of. I was highly delusional, bored, and isolated, a combination that can only bring disappointment and a forced expansion of the mind once it all comes crashing down.
Modes of being, something to keep track of. I’ve rearranged the visual innards of my mind multiple times by now, all to accommodate the waves of feeling that crash against imaginative, visual shores. This time around there are no delusions of grandeur, no jeweled conjectures to get me through uneventful days, all that there’s left of my past written ways is a desire to bridge the gap between what I see, as it is, and what I feel, what is perceived.
There’s a lot that has happened since I got serious about periodically letting thoughts flow into screen, back then I thought it would take me to a mythical place in which my importance was a given, I wanted a way out, a carefully thought-out plan, and so I was transfixed with the possibility of being someone. Nowadays, all I want to do is keep myself busy, enjoy and adore all that I can, for there is love in this life of mine, and I am no longer a ribboned beast, a real person is what I am now. Perhaps there is not much sense to be made, for there is no audience in mind, or maybe what my writing suffers from the most is the clear lack of factual material, but I believe that context can only taint an otherwise wholesome activity, and so, I will continue to do as I please, for the only thing that serves as worthy fuel to this is my wish to keep doing what comes naturally, to imagine myself elsewhere, to put pen to cream-colored paper, fingers to backlit keyboard, it is all about being, one way or another.
I shall write myself out of gnarly frames of mind, into a land of spotless circumstances, a better starting point, a place in which there is no harm to be made, no danger, no ghouls to torment my otherwise tranquil existence, a place in which I am surrounded by all the things I adore, where my only companion is the one I love, a place in which all that I want in this life of mine materializes itself into existence, a place in which worries vaporize into glittering dust, turning into a memory of a far-away annoyance.
This is my territory, my land of the in-between, where the sun is never cruel, the cold never unforgiving, a place in which all is nice, where the moon comes out of hiding as soon as the late evening starts to settle in, a place in which I sit and watch the trees sway in their sunset dance, honey-dipped light bathing rich foliage, a weather tender as a loving hug, a place pristine and out of reach to the outside world, my haven of lilac skies and soft embraces.
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