47 partes Continúa Yes, it is sad...
I am not prone to drama like the rest of you.
Our lives are encompassed with monotonous events, the usual really: eat, sleep, work, repeat.
But honestly, am I complaining?
I can, I could have...
But the question remains, do I even have the energy to spark up a fire?
We could be flowers, adorning ourselves to appear more attractive for the bees' ocellus.
Or glow brighter than the sun to entice.
But why go through all that hustle when we can just live through the eyes of another? Seems simpler enough anyway.
Suck the adrenaline rush of the stunners. The ones that even with just a sneeze, the entire earth would shake, sprinting towards them.
Their being, the forbidden tree, strutting at the centre of the Garden of Eden. Their souls, Magnetite.
We could attempt.
But I do not want to.
I try as much as possible to stay away from the disease.
As thrilling as it may be:
he who will swallow the apple seed must consider the size of his stomach.
So why spend a thousand back-breaking years thereafter mopping up the residue?
Have the moles drag down your name into the pits with them.
Surely, we are not that desperate, are we?
Never eye the wife of thy neighbour in fear that she just might be a white fowl with beautiful feathers.
So why can I not just stay in my lane?
Why can't we?
So join in, enter my mind and live out your most exciting reality through the eyes of others.
Read it, watch it, envision it. Better than allowing life to feed us up with a spoon of chaos, attracting a series of tornadoes into our mundane worlds.
And maybe, we might just fall in love.
