CLOSED!

 Step back! WAIT A MOMENT.

Take a stool out the door of the sacred fool. The mind seems negligent in its own misconduct. I have no control over my thoughts, as I fade into the darkness I mean to quote the greater mind of such a state as euphoria so I quote none. There might be a clue middled into my darkest thoughts, yet never fully at the proper hand of someone who will utilise the serenity of such dreams.

no work to be done.

Only a few know the deepest gaze into their solicited Indigenous soul or heart of choice. Me! I.

To wonder and wander the broken homes of my own misjudgement, my own misuse of anger or guilt, that too scares the soul as the heart of choice. 

I know less than what I previously taught of my own self.

 I stand corrected!

There would be no future for one dying to its own past and the present seems too far away out of the darkness that I comprehend the illusion, for it to be as I sought to be someone greater than my faculty, someone more real than my own nightmares, so I seek none.

Tomorrow may be something to look forward to for its end, something meaningful is none of my own dark thoughts, that could suffice none,. I write through my dignity and over my self-esteem, yet I stay in darkness out of the dearest touch to my solitude; so I call the state of nirvana. 

I consume the darkness for my own comfort I used to think only of what to give when all I am doing is to take. Not until I reached a position to give that I hated every part of me that used to take. I took the life out of my name. I took the courage out of my own deluded sense of greatness. I must be someone with a fallen grit, someone so soft that I could be tasted by the savoury sweetness of bread and wine, and that too demands greater taste than that of my own. I always fall for something that has not withstood much adversity,.that too is my own choice.

I now write merely out of the stress of living or that I hate to live in distress of dying, so to be or not to be is my own true quote of fantasy; so to die is where I must be told to look forward to, yet that too is none to my choice.

 I choose none.

I write out of love. I write out of passion. now all I do is kill every sense of happiness bestowed upon me

 to die is to be liberated or so I hope.

 I write out of hatred. I write out of lies that had been put all over my success thus I write none.