Oh, these fictions I write.
These ugly reflections of the truth.
Fiction to paint reality in a way those that read of my life would understand. A good awful mix of storytelling, past, present, and twisted details.
I wonder, if those that came before me would scoff at the lengths I go to to tell our story in plain sight. In the guise of darly twisted myths and fairy tales.
I wonder if they would approve.
Keeping the rules upheld by bending them until they nearly break. Protecting the innocent and the damned in the same keystrokes.
Oh, how I tread water. Eyeing the shoreline with equal parts disdain and desire. At what point does someone forego their secrets and return home?
The decision becomes skewed by the knowledge that my home is a series of cobwebs, gravemarkers, and endless severed ties. Such is the nature of the life I created through a series of good intentioned choices.
Well, you know what they say about good intentions.
So here I wade. Hoping to close my eyes and see a different landscape upon opening them.
Bear with me.
The common threads will become obvious given time.
And in a world where we escape death daily, the only currency we really have left is time.
These ugly reflections of the truth.
Fiction to paint reality in a way those that read of my life would understand. A good awful mix of storytelling, past, present, and twisted details.
I wonder, if those that came before me would scoff at the lengths I go to to tell our story in plain sight. In the guise of darly twisted myths and fairy tales.
I wonder if they would approve.
Keeping the rules upheld by bending them until they nearly break. Protecting the innocent and the damned in the same keystrokes.
Oh, how I tread water. Eyeing the shoreline with equal parts disdain and desire. At what point does someone forego their secrets and return home?
The decision becomes skewed by the knowledge that my home is a series of cobwebs, gravemarkers, and endless severed ties. Such is the nature of the life I created through a series of good intentioned choices.
Well, you know what they say about good intentions.
So here I wade. Hoping to close my eyes and see a different landscape upon opening them.
Bear with me.
The common threads will become obvious given time.
And in a world where we escape death daily, the only currency we really have left is time.
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