Milkydoxy,  Pics & Fashion,  Wondering Through Existence

Those Eyes Which Haunt Your Hollow Shell, a Blanket of Shotgun Shells and Rosebuds The Grinding Fissure To Make Something of Yourself Realized

The cracked shell of an egg spews the ghosts of your pasts, the eternal regrets and the eternally forgotten things lost to the void of time which is your time on this earth. There is no way to get everything done, but for sure you forget the best ideas you ever thought and also possibly lost the best paths you could have taken yourself on. Maybe the fact that you have forgotten is the reason why you absolutely no where now, which says that you should take a better mention to remember the things important- but what is any of us supposed to do about that.

We try our best but still or last piece of toast before we rush off to work falls jelly-smeared in between the crack of the cabinet and the refrigerator. The limitations of our own human mind processing, our lack of conscious from lack of sleep, is keeping us from being the gods we wish. We wish for gods because for some reason, its not good enough being us. What is that, and what are we. Should we be better? Do we have to? Or is us as we are, as you are in this moment enough? And if not, then why is that?

What are we looking to become and will we ever arrive? And if not, then why are we so fast to go nowhere just to lay down with our heart feeling gravely unfulfilled in search of an imaginary horizon? We are we really becoming?

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