☽ The Quiet Storm
A story ~ The Quiet Storm
How do I know this?
Well, I don’t know, ask someone else.
The truth is, I’m scared to know more.
It only reveals the monumental wall of questions I have to ask because of one answer.
The truth is, that it would be easier to run away.
It would be easier for me, but crippling for the ones who know me.
The truth is, that I’m not wise.
I’ve just made more mistakes, and had a harder time learning from them.
The truth is, that I don’t fit into this world, so much, that I do fit in it.
If everyone is special, then no one is.
The truth is, that the truth is not my own.
I am just a blank sheet of paper that is crumpled and crumbling away into a fine white powder that will dissolve once it hits the water.
I am the remains of a person who used to believe that belief was all that they needed.
The truth is, that this isn’t the truth.
It’s what select people call the truth.
But when something is true, it doesn’t mean that we know it is.
So, am I pretending to be something I'm not?
No, I'm probably not.
I'm just living day to day, like everyone tells me to.
-</\/>-
While listening to this song:
You could look at.....a rotating electric fan blowing cool, evening air into your bedroom.
You could be with.....those imaginary friends at night.
You could do something.....that makes you feel like you're free from the constraints of others. Perhaps, make some shadow puppets if you feel like it.
You could eat or drink.....iced cappucino coffee.
You could remember that.....your truth may be someone else's truth, but it probably isn't. Find your truth.

Comments
Post a Comment