This used to be my escape, now it is my home.
They move me; their arrogance depicts their power. Forever a time will I cease to see this, ever. But willingly I wear their eyes, willingly I dissuade my own self, but I don't even notice it. Wouldn't you rather live in the beautiful land of what if... A desire once executed is never as great and perfect as the imagination once may have willed it to be. Something meant to happen will happen, forcing things that shouldn't happen is only good for amusement... Anything you can hold onto and know it will never amass to your expectations, is something you should prohibit from trying to reach your expectations. But what of love?
What if, underlying all the prospects and factors of a thought, resides someone? What if they stay there- provoking themselves, into an unabated chaos. The residue of this chaos, a heartbeat. How is one to know this feeling past their cat?