PERSONAL
She has never learned!
Why does she live like that? It’s a total mess yet so profound.
Who is she?
There she is. Sitting in her squalid, tiny room. Smoking away. In devilishly deep thoughts. Her eyes speak of a death wish. Her body looks lifeless except when she puffs her cigarettes. Her dire mind is desperate to kiss the moon. She examines objects as if they belong to her soul. She communicates well with concrete elements. She meets herself in the mirror to validate her existence.
She defines herself by her routines. She sits in rooms. Contemplates. Eats. Drinks her coffee. Smokes. Walks. Walks. Walks some more. Walks on with an urgency to survive. Keeps walking. Nothing to respond to. Nothing to learn. Nothing to apologize for. Stillness amidst the movements spinning from all corners. The breath of exhaustion amidst lazy nights and days. The playing cards are full of jokers in a deck.
The chaotic city that stuns with beauty. The streets of the young and the old. The sounds that pound through her chest. She is wide awake. Her logic beats. Her clock ticks on. She still longs to relieve her guilt. She moves. She gazes. Her awareness is sublime.
And there. She walks. And walks. She walks on. With an urgency to survive. To nowhere. Eyes wide open. Without sacrifices. She knows. She is not a fool. She is always awake.
One cannot be a master. One can only influence. The cycle continues. It is passed on to the welcoming few. What would have been a hopeful beginning had become a tragic ending instead. Such profound lessons would never be learned. At all.
— S
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