Fallen thoughts

November 2015

Is it so bad then, to be misunderstood when nothing around is real except that which directly effects the integrity of your own mind?  The seas reveal their pearls to the mind that reasons in terms of extended metaphors, conforming the mind into something of virtue, but extravagant minds are not without an agenda that masquerades madness in a scattered fashion.  The question becomes rather it is the harder to use the mind’s strength to gracefully accept the misfortunes of fate, or to defy the labyrinth of fate with deception and mistrust of your own judgment.  The inconsistency presses the mind into a body that wanders from innocence, accompanied by a look of otherness that radiates the extent to which it is unspeakably alone.  Together traumatic, the mind and body fill their spaces with the soul.

Flighty is the soul that rests in disaster.  The holes of memory are filled with misplaced energy accumulated through events of the world almost ending.  This leaves an artistic impression on the soul’s every endeavor, stealing the most ordinary, remote places and recreating them to be beautiful.  The soul is discredited by the mind and the body for its inability to perceive reality, but it is not that the soul has been dishonest when rebelling from reality is the only way to deal with a world in gridlock.  When the integrity of your own soul is at its aversion is it so bad then to fall apart?  Is it so bad to leave your ideas undeveloped in public places, hoping they will wonder the way you do?  You make lists and scheme against the inevitable just because it’s raining and you think the sun will never shine once more.  Is it so bad then to go completely insane in order to express yourself as an enigma against the ones that oppress you?