Junkhead

Hearing the whispers of agony et ignoring all the others sounds,acting like a numb et remembering how life tears you et me down with a friendly
smile,how it enforced us to bow down on our knees, how it buried us out in an orphaned land, frankly such humiliation et such bitterness not seems seen, truly life is so damn cruel as like as a lunatics cuz we never know when some lunatic come along with a sadistic choice like DIE or
SUFFER, that s’why we runaway to get junked as to change our colors and to blend into our new environment, it s’a defense mechanism.

Sadly with a junkie head we reach an era of a lack of self-control, sub-consciousness, we can step into an era where we can live in a world as those who are dreaming that their sun shall no more go down nor their moon withdraw, there where we can find ourselves as the cleanest,the honest as we can be, and where we can shed a tear peacefully. With a junkie head we can feel irrational then everything feels not quite normal cuz you feel stronger and weaker at the same time, you feel excited and the same time terrified, the truth is you don t know what you feel except you know what kind of a man you wanna be, it s’as if you ve reached the unreachable and you weren t ready for it. we can shout to say that our bad habits ain t our title but our strengths and our wisdom are our title,but finally they ain t the way to the light or to eradicate the pain, they won t lead to a fairy-tale life, they lead to suffering and once you enter into it.

Seldom we feel safe and secure that why we get locked inside our memories bleeding everyday from the deceit of time, all the time our self-esteem is so low and our life provided us some blurry vision for a future,this bitter silence translate our rage against the circumstances that we step into. just searching for any glimmer on the distant horizon, we stand precariously on a piece of solid ground barely large enough for our feet, around us, a vast expanse of desolation et emptiness but sometimes we believe that our development based on failure rather than success, so without the scars of the past we cannot create a new phase so pure, so sunny to start up again with no former black clouds, sadly it s’the way the whole things work.

Cadaveric

Auteur/autrice