The Scent of Flowers(Title unrelated)

A sense that is undoubtedly coming from the need for change. Is this that feeling that I get some times when I’m so comfortable that I have to get out of what ever decent situation that I’m in? Coming to this point frequently in my life, almost no alternative will suffice. Words escape me, fleeting with every whim that is taken. My thoughts sore high above the Ethernet cables and waterfalls of memory cascade into the dim lit rooms of the past. Searching through them like some kind of shoe box of photographs that are water stained from being forgotten for far too long, tucked away in the attic of the mind.

The unwarranted feelings of love and happiness drown me in simple conjunctures that formulate cohesive sentences. Albeit, they are sentences that are shoddy and without confidence.

Far from discretion, a broken heart is stitched to an arm that once felt as though it were able to hold a whole other world. One that lay in the sea of infinite possibility, travelling through space without knowing which direction it was going. But it floats on never-the-less. Ever moving through space and chaos. Broken symmetry in galaxies that evaporate without anyone ever knowing. Blissfully unaware of the potential within each speck of star dust.

The same which created you. The sole purpose of my being. The reason I want to live.

Each post is typed to blind eyes. A melody that is remembered only whilst reminiscing what once was. Birds could not sing a more beautiful note.

Dear Reader, my mind is some place else….


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