Saturday, December 2, 2023

Thought Chronicles no. 2 ๐Ÿ–Š️


 

If my whole life is just a mark on a paper 

I hope that it’s a comma beneath a period

The semicolon to continue a life sentence

Melting into a one man civilization


I always think I can get free, sail off the map,

But I’m just in the truman show, taking a nap

Forced hypnosis from participating in society

Allure of the open road turns to illusion of privacy


And we’re all just expanding spores of bacteria

Actors following the script of a person

Never their real self, just a contrived concept

They don’t live their passion, they just promote it


They demonize me before they see my perspective

And the paper thin boundaries start to peel away

Stuck between a jagged breath and inevitable decay

Crafted by the same crazy sculptor, and the same clay


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