“and heres the fucked up thing, we are born with such strong trust. from the trust that your mother is going to come home to love you everyday, to the trust that your hairdresser gets your hairstyle right. and as we grow up, trust depletes, it leaks like the Vesuvius, and therefore we flee like its neighbours. you’re on your own.”
“you start to realize that the colour that surrounds your life is sadly actually a facade of images that you have conjured for yourself, and for yourself alone: similar to that of making shapes out of clouds. you grew up, and colours leaked to the ground, you hit your head right smack on the concrete floor, and you saw what you never wanted to see - red pill, blue pill.”
“welcome to the real life, you said to yourself. the welcoming party is here with their emblems of penitence and incrimination. you commanded your knees to meet the asphalt beneath you, and the tears refused to entertain your sorrowful heart. you have surrendered. shit just got real.”
December 2011
8 posts
Wake up.
“day and night, the lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night”
—
wait, tdlylily
steady feet; steps into realisation,
dont fail me now, run me through constellations.
