Colorblind.

Where do people go when they close their eyes? And what do people see when they dream? What is it about this place that makes us yearn for a better understanding of the things we know literally nothing about? Do we dream the same things? Do we constantly crave the same feelings? Why does it make you feel safer to be wrapped around in someone else's arms? Why does it make you go faster when someone who let you fall is watching you move? What exactly is it that makes us hope for adventure? And why do we have to ask so many questions to get to it? Our hearts are all heavy but why does it want to be with another heavy heart? Is it compassion? Understanding? Our are we seriously too blind to see the irony? We're all broken enough to be humble. But that's the thing- we're all broken. We all allow ourselves a minute to be overwhelmed and smothered with that constant buzzing feeling of wondering what if. We all make excuses and we all think we are so much more enlightened than everyone around us, and maybe we are, but who are we to assume that? We all have escapes, each different in their own way-just like the cogs and gears grinding within our constant buzzing brains. AND WHY CANT WE JUST TURN IT OFF. Just for one.fucking.second. For a chance to breathe? We're facing the clock, and we're facing some sick fuck sending us to do their bidding dressed like a wretched animal with no sense of what is going on. We're blind, and we think we see see in color. We're deaf and we think we can taste musical symphonies. We take every single tick-every single tock- every single piece of tragedy and trauma- and we put it in a golden locket and hang it from our necks until one day we're literally hanging from our necks. Such beauty wrapped around in such horror. Horror is subjective. You can't love until you can hate- or maybe you cant hate until you can love. and what is the meaning of either? WHO GIVES A SHIT. We're constantly drifting out to sea trying to escape our made up world like we're part of the goddamn truman show. We fill our bodies with chemicals and our minds with noise in order to try and branch out from the "normal" way of thinking and where exactly does it get us? In a worse state of self-loathing and contradicting morality. BUT ITS SO WORTH IT. Isn't it? Thats why we do what we do. That's why we love wreckage. Destruction is art. You are the scum of this planet. Every single one of us are, and that pure simplistic beauty is why we keep the vibrations rumbling on this ever so patient planet. If I'm not under your skin by now, then stop wasting your own time. There isn't anything except for nothing. Its simple and complex and we cannot stand it. We are the errand boys for someone who functions the exact same way we do. Someone who eats like we do, shits like we do, and dreams the same way we do. Or maybe not. You muster up every bit of courage you've been storing just to make it to the end of your driveway just to turn back around and hide in your glass home. Its disgusting but its oh so beautiful. Our minds are conformed to this sense of how to do things the "right way." Writing is subjective. Love is subjective. Hate isn't. why do we all have different views on what we think love is, but we all agree on the definition of hate? Why do we get married to people we can't stand and want to screw the life out of the ones we hate? We get excited when things go our way and we throw tantrums when they don't. Where is our common ground? What do you see when you lay your head on your pillow and hope your dreams are as vivid and exciting as the night before? Who do we see in our dreams? Will we ever love someone. will we ever connect with someone. will we ever get over our own needs in a chance to be with someone we don't even know? Ive picked out all my favorite flavors in my bag of candy. All that is left are the oranges and purples. They'll probably be thrown away... but maybe I'll dream about them when its time to escape my reality yet again for the night. And maybe I'll dream about you too... and maybe you'll have the same dream...and maybe when we wake up it will be erased from our memories. Maybe it actually happened in an alternate universe. Maybe we were together for one time. one night. somewhere. maybe.