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how i see myself act. may not be entirely coherent, wrote without much sleep. |
duality: comprised of two parts reminds me of a certain geometrical shape: a heart i know that thinking about your own doesn't make you smart, but i feel that the two halves are slowly ripping the whole apart. splitting my core in twain, filling my brain with shame and time and time again, i feel there is no way that i can illuminate the dark or blot out the sun and end the day because in order for one part to sustain, the other part must be there and struggle in vain to take priorty and control, to get a taste of power always an "I" or "me", never an "ours" and it's been a question i've wondered a lot more over time, is the metaphorical heart related to the mind? because mine are both split in two, but won't fit together, like two left shoes and one side of the heart and one side of the mind share the same hue one a deep red, similar to man's nectar of life, and the other a shining silver, reminiscent of a knife yet it seems that no matter which side of the mind i approach, it's always rotting, festering, and full of roaches layer after layer peels away and falls behind me, leading me anywhere but astray. it pulls me further and further towards the core, and all that i see leaves me wanting nothing, yet so much more but how far should one delve into his own thoughts? after all, we will see things we ought naught. thankfully i'm not too far in and the layers falling are long, yet i can hear, the further i go, the faintest song barely a hum, yet as i go deeper the vibrations are more strong and it implants in my thoughts things that i see as wrong yet some part of me disagrees and thinks i should go along with what is somehow spoken through the hum, these thoughts beating on my skull like a drum. i am half full of fear from my own mind, yet it also feels familiar, as if it's a home i've left behind always able to return to yet never fully reaching the level of ambition that half my heart and mind are preaching but this amibition is rife with false hopes that i wish i could say are certain, but i only look through cracked scopes. |