Noise

A distant noise fills my brain like warm shagged grass - this is how you live - it fades and rings through the hollow greatness behind my eyes, the sunburn of sudden April in the middle of nowhere - this is how you live - a premonition, a sacred curse to be carried for eternity, as long as machines start to doubt their creator, a noise fills the void and the void devours the noise simultaneously - this is... This is how - this is the only way to live, in pain and pleasures of being a single strand of grass reflected on the watery eyes of a sick sheep, a psychological study of narcissism on pet dogs, and we continue to believe in this juncture made by ourselves to lie to us when needed, the fate of a thunder compared to the lifetime of a human being - I cry, I exist yet I do not see the beauty of it, because maybe beauty is truly subjective and resembles the nothingness within - I smile as I embrace a fading noise of pasts and futures blended in an everlasting present, and maybe this is how everyone lives - in the despairs of a ploughed fallow field, in needless collectivity, in noise, in noise, in absolute unending noise in search of silence, in absolute unending...

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