There is chaos and anarchy in my eyes, mutually inclusive exclusions forming divisive methodologies to create personalized accounts of mythical tales, illusions within seclusion. A very painful sort of rage with an innate desire to alienate myself from one and all rises within me. Simple words cannot do justice to my state as my emotions swirl with complex intentions, only to create fissures in my mind. Curiously, a denial of life is so strong within me that I long to welcome ruin with open arms. Reach the very abyss of existence to find a lowly corner of sordid happiness. The paradox is that isolation is the right of the mighty, the weak cannot have it. Society engulfs the weak completely, it insidiously creeps inside the weak man's life, his thoughts and even his emotions. My thoughts and emotions are so overwhelming that I feel crushed under their weight. By my own logic, I am weak.
It is a sad confession.
It is a sad confession.
