From within this seat I have watched the world turn, in an age that is now so seemingly far from what I once knew, in a place isolated and cut off from once made up my wildest hopes and dreams. But much like my cyclic past, time and time once again I watch the clock turn. I watch the hands repeat ever so infinitely, stringed so infinitely in their repeating – their very hands connected like a line of code, spanning across this prison of a reality that I have come to know. Was it all worth it? Is it all for nothing? What becomes of us now? Are the questions asked over and over, and left unanswered. The emptiness and insanity of it all puts my head into a spin. But in believing, and in very close to knowing that it was all my actions alone that brought upon this cataclysmic slate that I am witnessing now – the acceptance towards what is and what could be sways day after day. Like a scale that teeters in between the desires of what time wants and the desires of what fates want, my mind is stuck in limbo.
Looking through the very eyes of the evolutions that seek to encase me, I can see the ultimatum; the very putting on of the new mask that would define me, the very bringing of the new dark that seeks to bind me, the very death of peace of mind that shall soon inevitably find me. These are definite, these are all nothing more but final fates coming to fruition – like some long awaited oath finally being carried out to it’s fullest. But these things all come in phases, and even though the time that I know now is much more fragile than ever before, I still seek to manipulate it in new forms and ways that I and only I alone desire. It has all begun to take a toll on me much more than I could have fathomed, the ins and outs of it all, the ups and downs, the very shakings – and the vicious cycle of loss and gain, gain and loss that binds me.
I have not only heard, but have seen the echoes of what is to come. The future stenches of even more loss, as a new form of stasis seems to seek me out. For strapped to this seat of fate and enclosed within this vessel, I have been given the gift to see things in a light that I had once never been able to see them before. A much darker light, one that in which takes a toll on this faulty foundation that holds what is left of me together. For when I close my eyes behind this shroud of black I can see the lines pass me by, and everyone one of them speaks to me of the exact same fates. For once upon a different time, to dream was to be guided, but now it is to only bear witness to the inevitable end, to the inevitable truth. But is it really all of my own design? When I awake from these dreams, I awake with the acceptance that I am to awake in a world of misery, I wake with the acceptance that the evolution that stands before me will shift my form into something closer in alignment with what I have been heading for all this time. I wake with the acceptance that as I push forward, onto all things, that my head full of thoughts all to cyclic, all to restless – will decay with time. I wake in knowing that this mania I have come to know, since the very beginning, has been of my own design.
