The day’s end is drawing near. For somebody out there it’s about to start. The socials, the well-offs. A whole parallel universe of human specimens exists even in this place. Parallel, as in separated from myself in an utterly irreparable way. But I’m not saddened to be stuck to this side of things, to my own sphere. One creates its own universe, the one he’s going to live in, and it’s a construction whose progress is never-ending. Hypocrites complain, stupids complain. But they’re builders as much as I am of their own cages. Whatever takes place on the other side, in the parallel life where others live, it’s not really our concern. Pretending it is helps us making our boundaries firmer and our roots stronger. But that’s all there is to it. And only the fool can go astray, crossing the borders.
As I write my thought inflates and deflates in a rhythmical sequence with no established rules to be followed. I can feel the pulse of the many thoughts coming and going, merging in a background of nothingness or getting starker in the limelight. I do not feel at ease with myself. I can’t follow my own line of reasoning, maybe because I don’t really have one. I touch the temple, first the right, then the left, and perceive a warm zone right where it hurts more. What is that causes that pain? Lack or overabundance of something going on? Maybe it’s just casual and it’s caused by nothing at all. The feeling is bothering me all the same. Doesn’t matter to have actual reasons for everything. Sometimes things just are, and that’s enough for everybody to realize there’s nothing to do about it.
Comments
One response to “Forcibly unsigned”