A Journey Past Our Solar System is mostly confessional poetry of my life in the few last years, structures of a dysfunctional family, in the middle of dealing with mental illness. A tragedy in the making of my brain turning into coal, ready to burn...
Will I be strong enough to over come this feeling? To feel in control? Responsible?
Will I wake up? Snap out of this daze I am stuck in?
Yes isn't what I want to hear, If in fact I'd rather see things happen. That will then mold my perspective of the unknown into my hands. Then I can make decisions and thoughts I can trust.
Right now it's a dangerous unknown void I don't know if I can pass and overcome.
Maybe I don't want the responsibility Maybe I just want to feel free Rather than caged.
"Wake up!" Someone screams at me I hear more as an echo, Confused in the state I wake up from. Bizarre. "What have you done!" I start to wake, tubes, dark hospital room.
Freedom I thought. How long was I gone? Fighting myself in my mind? Well the last part of the dream was the part where I killed myself. Funny.
Even if life does feel like a dream, Doesn't mean we're stuck in this realm.
You wouldn't wake up. You'd be thrown into a black void. Nothing. Where nothing exists. Where you don't exist.
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