Today I didn’t expect to write but, you know. Accidents happen.
Our mind has such a strange way of surviving in the brambles of our own ghosts. When your soul is young (and notice that I say “soul”) you are obsessive, narcissistic, absurd. Then your brain starts pouring a thick, slow, warm, black venom through your glands, along your arteries, down your spine, impregnating your heart, pumping fuel lumps. Exhausted. Slow.
Your pain bar reaches levels you couldn’t have even thought about. You become inert, cynical. Your thoughts get covered in that kind of humidity you find in deep, toxic caves.
Once you reach that point, you are forced to face your own demons, because they don’t look as bad as the world outside and, hey, they’re almost like friends. That stupid friend that always makes you smile. Yah… my demons.
Your mind hibernates, deciding that you’re your only safe place.
When your soul is old, you appreciate other’s rejection or incomprehension. Because you, comprehend everything. Because you, can see through the flesh. Because you… only see souls. Light. Guilt. Regret. Pure feelings. Fear. Need.
Because when you only detect codes, colors, energies, beings.
Because when you see only darkness. And give up. Cough to choke. Get blind.
Because when you’ve chosen your last spot in your darkest corner.
Then, right then… in the most beautiful, brightest, unexpected, demolishing, devastating way.
Then… right then… Accidents happen.
