As I struggle to hold onto the remnants of my depleting sanity, I am beginning to feel a lot like Alice; tumbling down the rabbits hole. Unfulfilled and completely empty, as if space without the illustriousness of the stars aesthetic value... Ultimately waiting for my Big Bang. What was once the masterpieces of love are now void of meaning and there lies within me no appreciation for the sanctity of my own cognizant genius; that of which is evidently wasted upon a godlike, yet fallibly shaken foundation of flesh and bone.
I am just a man.
The experiential dispositions of mind over matter only results in lust. Torturous... Inflictions of my conscious manifests dancing creatures in the flames atop a lit stove. Mockingly...
She...
No. I must hold strong. Nobody seems to understand that,
I am just a man.
And even at this stage where trauma promotes growth both mentally and spiritually, decimals and inches are the only relevant matter, while love is a vice and virtue all at once. Legend has it, that if a man defeats his nature he becomes a God, and his previous actions become extenuated. But at what cost? To live as a King under the paragons of virtue is a pyrrhic victory when measured to the immortality that can be acquired from a queen.
Indeed.
But I'm just rambling on the silence of my darkened dreams. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about I must still be asleep. Hell... This isn't real. I'm sorry of how I've made you feel.
I'm just a man. #KanyeShrug
Pradda
me likey a whole lot
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