Between the dark hazy shadows that cover our faces in the suturnous night - there is something else that is present.
Our feelings try to company us - and accomplish that we stay - here.
Other than anywhere else.
Cause other than the sunny pages that are shown in the files around us, there is also the gloomy air that cover us around. Like that old book you used to read in the afternoons after class.
Because life is a sordid tool of taking out what we had - and don't quite providing something else in return - to substitute what once was there.
It is an odd presentation of champters that most of the time doesn't quite related to themselves - like a story that wasn't planned before being written.
All we can - and have to - do is simply collecting our pieces to try to sum up and get anything out of it.
There is no way to related what was back there to was is going to happen - and we are simply in the middle of this tornado of souls that drives (around) us.
It is such a funny taste when you imagine want you wanted - and what you got.
Who you were - and who you are - and exactly who you think you are going to be.
This is definitely an untold tale that mix up the worse of it all with some odd parts that let us have a crsital vision and identify that we are indeed here.
And the more we stay in this corridor created by the actual society the less we are able to disperse within the world itself - and to migrate us into this whole of the existence, that shines light as a candle.
A warm, little incadescent light of hope within the whole darkness of the reality.
What can be good - or bad. And that is not the matter.
All that we might need, want and deserve is just a bit of peace a true moment of rest to dwell into the perfect moments of this existence - to, indeed, exist.
And what is more to be asked?
Than just to be able to reach this counciousness.
It is a crazy way of putting us back and around into what is exactly real - and to see, that the less we worry is the more we get.
These are manuscripts of those who are lost - lost within.
And that sometimes a glimpse of truth reach our very being - and keep on carrying us.
Because we are a lot - and yet, so little - and more and more less.
Go round, around, all around me. All around ourselves.
And take it all from us.
Leave what is exactly necessary.
Let us just be assertive and be able to continue.
Until tomorrow, that is indeed another day.
The road to the grave is straight as an arrow, I'm just staying around to sing your song
