And sometimes we try to get a grip on things, a grip on reality. Reality, in my definition, is a conundrum of ropes tied together into a knot that is impossible to disentangle. However, there is a loose end in that conundrum, and you hold onto it with your dear life, trying to get a grip. And in that reality of knotted ropes and loose ends, there's that spark of madness. A spark of madness at the beginning of the loose end. A spark of madness that if lost, is lost forever. You might as well call it the day before yesterday. A spark holding onto two small hands.
On that nudiustertian morning, you opened your eyes, and lighted your hands ablaze to a little taste of reality and madness.
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Author's note: I'm actually pretty excited to start this series. I've been feeling happy lately, and that's just something I would like to feel for a long amount of time. And I might as well expand my vocabulary ya know. My current vocabulary contains the words of likes, ums, so yeahs, and what.
YOU ARE READING
Quintessence (on hold)
Poetry(n.)-the most perfect embodiment of something. A collection of poems and prose [© 2014, silencieuse. All rights reserved]
