Cruising,
But deep down inside I know that I have little time to waste. These nights have begun to grow thicker than I’ve ever bore witness to, and though these temperatures for imminent winter feel so unseasonably warm, I know that soon the cold will come. Thoughts, plans, and memories racing; lust, dreams, and purpose I’m still chasing as I drift down these seemingly endless roads during the darkest hours of the night. Blackness is the only trident and true force in the universe, sometimes I even remind myself that the stars that shine so desperately, spread across the night sky are nothing more but a mirage, a memory in and of itself, a fleeting etch in time of something that no longer even exists in it’s true form. So I breathe in, inhaling the smoke I seek and throttle onwards for I can feel my very anxieties chasing me. For breaking free from these hopes and yearning is the hardest huddle or hurl, and escaping the grip of these enticing dreams is the most difficult fight I’ve ever fought – for all that remains knows that I have to separate from it all, once and for all – to inevitably let it go.
Often times I just wanna hit the brakes and slow down to an ever-lasting halt, to let all the forces that tread behind me devour me and consume me whole, but instead I keep moving. These darkest nights have me caught in a seemingly sleepless state, keeping me pushing onwards towards something that feel so far away and futile – yet remaining as the only hope left that I can conjure up as a way to remain. The path to this permanent release is of a road not too much further from where I tread now; as I remain ever so tempted to throttle towards speeds unimaginable and just let go, to experience a purging, a cleanse, a release of the weight that plagues my mental. But even if that is not the choice I make, I am, for now, content, in a sense of solace and absence from the stirring that haunt my mind, even though this feeling has long since felt foreign and strange.
But this currently reality isn’t the only place where strange and foreign feelings seek to make their way in. For in these dreams I conjure, caught up in some poisoness past, I can still see glimpses of what you have become, feeling then that without you being the most painful thing I have ever felt, but somehow here – it couldn’t feel any better. There is nothing natural about drifting back and forth between these memories which I feel are the closest things to hell, outside of this poison planet – for in these dreams I can feel your very gaze shake me to my core, your very words hold grasp on my mind, and your very presence siphon the essence out of my soul. It is in these drifting moments that I have to begin to break free, to learn with haste how to just learn to let go of it all now.
