Time in my mind spent buried underneath has lad me to some strange sort of peace and acceptance that I had never seemed to reach even during the moments before the blackened flood. Because there is a strange sort of nature, a mysterious sort of feeling that comes out of the knowledge of a perpetual loneliness and origins and fates much darker than what were initially told. To be lead on about the truth of our true nature, to be manipulated into the hands of collective consciousness, to be deceived inside the illusion of separation, only to be lost within the dream of this nightmare we now inhabit.
But these darker nights as we wander has brought about a growth, a turning point in this evolution, a sprouting sewn from separation and salvation alike, that has now awoken the very darkness that I once swore to fight. Because as we grow our limbs and sharpen our teeth, minds set on a hunt that we may never live to see – we yearn, innately and perpetually to depart, to escape this existence and all it has ever stood for, to remain isolated and severed from this all, to be anywhere but here – even if that means lost in the endless void of our own minds. For I’ve seen darker and more sinister lies take place, like serpents scheming among a crippling state of society – for bringing about a new reality, in it’s image, seems to be it’s only goal.
