Drafts I wrote that never saw the light of day haunt me at night, seeking clarity to why they were deemed irrelevant and invalid, a case of belligerent internal conflict to say the least. Forever bleeding on Canvases, trying to compose subjective motion pictures that uplift the broken and discarded.
One Sunday night I set my bible on fire after pleading for mercy upon my soul to silence that speaks not. The subconscious on the other hand casually tells me lies to deter my focus from the prevalent agony of existence. What can this prolonged hunger game offer me besides a slap and a beautiful death? Nothing so far...
The rest of my days are spent arguing with the encyclopedia in my room. Aroused by envy of an aborted child, wrath and rage fill my heart, reducing me to nothing more than a savage beast with questionable morals and fading faith in humanity....
Constant Rectification of Intricate wordplay, scaled down to simple mediocre sentences I can spoon feed the general public. That is not trash you just stumbled upon, that is my DNA in virtual A4 format...Proverbial Jerk off the ego as I gaze into the mirror and set my eyes on flawless Imperfection...
©fezilemv
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