Its cold outside and I can’t seem to keep myself warm. The wind rustles through the leaves outside the window and everything becomes surreal.
My eyes blur from the neon lights flickering in my head. The luminescent glow of the screen before me sets my nerves on edge. I want to sleep.
All around I feel this force that waits for that moment of weakness to pounce and finish me off. These feelings of inconsistency confuse like mazes high above my line of vision. I clamber for the nearest outcrop of rock I sense just ahead of me. Cling for dear life and find it crumbling in my grasp.
The doors that lead outside are numerous and seductive. An easy escape. But I’ve never taken things that came easy. There is no joy in accepting handouts.
So, I push on with utter contempt for all who are appeased by smaller things. My eyes filled with greed of attaining that equilibrium that is only whispered about. Never satisfied, never slacking.
On my own mission to save myself from complacency. Ahead looms failure and loss of discernment. That does not affect me. The urge is unbearable. Like a strain or a cramp that just won’t relax.
Making my own way comes easy, for I’ve never succumbed to mob mentality. Creating has been hard, for laziness is more like recreation to me. Even on the most eventful days I find some way or the other to waste some time. The point being, I don’t consider that wasting time. As I am merely keeping myself entertained and calm.
The world is indeed quite boring with all their rules and religions and guidelines and forms and standards and all the other “Big” words that just seem to get in the way. I want a path that I discover for myself that has perils and dangers and boogiemen and nurses in black stockings (not in hospitals) and streams that have whirlpools and mile deep crevices and most of all have detours and shortcuts.
That is my perfect world.