It is all so unattached, yet so needed.
The need of obsession,
the need of touch,
the need of selfish trust,
the need of approval.
The need of some kind of pleasant illusion


The wishes that rely on each individual reveal the weaknesses, yet they are viewed as marvelous and pure human belongings, the wishes this is.

So much for all the unnecessary
begging and
pray and
request and
that one dream.

Just wishing to cry so hard, as I keep walking alone on some saint’s street, then spit on to the floor and by that moment, as the spit hits the grown, electricity get’s part of my brain as I feel like heading down and lay there, just wanting to go back to that unfolded dream that seemed too real in such an undefined way.
Looking at the road that seems to have no final stop, I am still aware that somehow I will get to the end of it.

What was the purpose of all that?

This constant need to unfold each detail that comes along
This constant need to try and understand such insignificant breakouts.

I will be moving towards change towards knowledge, towards experience, towards sunrise, towards sunset; towards death.
This practical feeling of how my existence has no impact on my death and how death conceals its journey to be at all times on the lead.
I´ll try and close my eyes and deceive the wicked paths that lay on each one’s soul.
Presumptions…You don’t care do you? Neither do I.