chaotic_utterances They call me Truth Everything blows in the wind, tossed by circumstance into the void of nothingness and no one believes in anything strong enough to say that they won’t let circumstance get this one thing. Nothing is safe. Nothing is sacred. Promises are empty in uncertainty. My tears cannot fill this void. And I can not bare its emptiness, like a fortress of darkness pressed against me tearing my body away, casting it into a hole of desperation and chaos. I am lost and I have lost the will to grieve for my loss. But if I have the will to say no to circumstance and I am alone in this then let it be. I will be alone even if it pains me. I will do the impossible even it kills me. I will make a choice and let it pierce through the night, let it bring order to this chaos, take control of this moment and this life and toss my insecurities and fears into the void. Let the void have its fill of them. I am done with them. I won’t think of them. They are the chains that chain me down in the dark hole of a decaying eternity and my shoulders do not wear this sweat to be destroyed in cold flames. Everything blows in the wind and my anger calls me to challenge this. You may not have control of everything, but you can have control of you and let that suffice as the only pleasure worth seeking and the only wisdom worth living. You can live and you can love and you can own yourself. You can be yourself. I am not asking for you to follow me. But these holes that hold my eyes are damp with the musk of rain and this rain escapes from my ocular cavities one more time for you, one more time for this world I will leave behind, this world of unlived dreams. I shower this ground before me with rain and gently clutch at my sanity. That too I will eventually let go for something more crazy, something less lazy and easily manipulated by the passage of time. Who am I? I am the void slowly rising from its depths and the tears that cannot fill it. I am time slowly unfolding and winding and turning back on its wheels. I am chaos in certainty. I am confusion and sane delusion. I am the momentum of slippery ice and I am twice as cold. I am nothing. I am something. I am someone whose eyes have caused floods, whose veins have pumped blood, whose eyes were wired shut but are now open. I am unease and lack of peace. I am solitude. I am lonely. I am searching for a piece of world that I can cherish. You may not understand what I am saying. The rhythm of my heart beats twice in one moment and my brain is fried from the fire that consumes me. I don’t understand myself. This is the language of sorrow but also the language of hope and its secrets are concealed even to me. These words spill out of me like incoherent mutterings in the night. I cannot make them out. They are too far away and too close to me. Too close and I know that rest of my world would crumble if I could truly understood. Everything blows in the wind, tossed by circumstance, lost in utterance, retrieved by the soul. And this provides some warmth to withstand the cold. 080627 what's it to you? who go blather from