04 January 2010

Red Shoal

Stifled within yourself. An island in the middle of a red lagoon of pulsating nothingness.
You're mesmerized by the thought that the mind carries the body and not the other way around. In your case which carries which has never occurred to you.

There comes a certain moment when you manage to humiliate yourself and feel such degradation so deep somewhere that you begin to hate with this fiery intensity anything that makes you think.

Whenever you will pick yourself up and dust off the failure that others have piled upon you, there will always be others waiting to pull you back down again. Those that claim to love you are the most capable. You will let them think for you, all the while remaining an island and at the same time will try to float into a pathetic merged existence with them.

There is no respect. For you, or for your scathing resentment of all that there is around and beyond. All this while you never realise, that more than anything else, you have this need to destruct.

When you peek over the edge of the island. The red is shallow and your reflection is upside down...

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