the waters are still.
still and dead underneath the icy fingers of black tree branches stretching over the shores that used to suffer boundless beatings of pernicious waves, now rest in dreadful silence.
now, we all rest in the dread of silence that we have created and praised ourselves.
it is all lies, the belief in reality and truth, it all means no more but a jot.
and in these strange days, these moments of corrupted minds and delusional thoughts of those that hung themselves in hopes of another hole in their already twisted, abhorred realities.
if you can stop time, if you can stand face to face with death and rip new dimensions within your minds ability, or better, the lack of one as you may never know what your mind contains, where then, tell me where, do you finally find yourself at ease?
take away all that man has to suffer, take away all that brings man happiness, take away all that a man has to feel, and yet that raw figure of a man would still wander. naked and alone, wander the paths that don’t particularly lead anywhere, just wander, as such confusion is the highest point in human nature, the biggest misunderstanding that somehow just can’t be tamed or for that matter ripped out of ones insides.
tear a man apart and his mind would still be forever lost in the vast labyrinths of cosmos.
what is this then? what are these things i need? for i know, and i have known all along that i don’t need anything at all. i know that through knowledge will i only obtain peace of mind, and through knowledge will i only lean that i simply know nothing.
nothing at all…
with all these things comes a simple understanding of unattainable matter. with all this comes an understanding that this just isn’t it, and with that i ask again, what were the thoughts of those that found suicide on their hands? for death, i also know, is a change in matter.
