I'm trying to make a difference in this world. I'm trying to keep philosophy alive. I'm trying to influence your mind all the while mine is traveling an a billion directions at once.
I believe a little insanity is a good thing.
I'm inspired by life and I'm inspired by brains and nature and love and happiness and obsessiveness and anything else that's in this universe and outside of it. I think too much. I write compulsively. I don't want society to stop reading. I don't want society to stop creating. I want to contribute to this planet's literature that is so often hidden under media, pop culture, and other things that won't really matter in fifty years.
These are my thoughts, and I can't control them. I can't control the words that flow out of my brain and through my body.
This is word vomit. And I'm not cleaning it up.
of you
I feel the pain you possess in your heart.
Unintentionally.
Accidentally.
Completely.
Sighs of tears that you can’t see. Feeling what they can’t feel. I don’t know details, but I know feelings. I can’t talk, but I can think.
Memories I never experienced of people I’ve never met. I don’t know why a heart breaks or why the morning dove sings so sad. I don’t know why rainstorms are so beautiful. If the storms in the sky are so lovely, then why can’t I see that beauty in the storm inside of you?
Unexpressable wants of which I don’t even know how they came to be. I don’t know how a flower blooms. I don’t know why growth continues to linger among decomposition when given the slightest amount of nutrients.
And I’ve found myself wanting the pain to leave.
Unintentionally.
Accidentally.
Completely.
I don’t want you to feel The Pain.
