Make Sense Of Meaning

Check me out, they scream. I'm here, and I want your world. There's an absence, I recognize myself.

I listen to the mind numbing sounds of the people.

Taking pieces, and constructing obscurities. No one will make sense of it, but its not to be made sense of.

You can make sense to me, I can travel outside of my own.

I can come into the web of you're thoughts, so fuck the rest.

They're the ones that know without knowing. Old friends, and distant memories.

The Unknown World of Lunacy

First impressions... there were none. Not knowing myself enough to really chose something to go on. You can see it in their eyes when they don't understand.

Unworthy... as they sink into their mindless worlds of deception. holding tight onto their preconceived ideas of what this woman might be, but you will never even come close to understanding the mystery behind this form, so many expressions, so many faces, so many seasons and so many changes, how this never stays the same for long, as the moon waxes and wanes so does she.

Does it satisfy the mind or could it be something they had missed? I am conscience of my being but I don't feel real, gazing into your curious eyes wondering where I had lost myself, feeling something extraordinary, having stolen that world from me. She was then looking for answers in every direction,

And so she sent herself out into the world, into a delusional world, but the world non the less, it may have been a dream, but it was now too late to ponder. She was wandering somewhere vaguely familiar, she had shoved it away into the quiet place of make believe, the feeling had fallen so far down she could barely remember if it was real, but so she went on waiting for nothing to find her, frantically scanning her memories, some false some true, of what she thought might have been her life at some point in time.

There was now a sense of emptiness, perhaps a loss of something vital.
I was there standing above the pathways... tired, weak and straining to keep my eyes open. Hearing someone crying out to me, as I turned away... hiding in the dark she held them... feeling inferior, vulnerable and anxious, they dissipated into her world of make believe.

And they always ask why it was said this way, what it might be about the hopelessness of it all that was so thrilling, what might it be about this world of fantasy that you might not interpret the very same way.

It stops for a moment, then I find myself wondering if I'm my own at all, as
something slides its way inside my head, perversion of the mind, being drawn into a haze. singing the song. singing it without worry.

Seeking refuge in the deafening noise, beginning to amplify, waiting for the day, but there was no waiting. "Chose a side" she said... No, I couldn't possibly.

Ambiguous Mystification

Seeing a whirling mass of deceit, Its tired, its tender, its lacking in clarity, its an indistinct shape I can not name, this was something unintentional, so uncertain the true meanings have been disputed, there had been a distinguishing significance about the source at some point.

-thinking the next day will bring serenity. Going on, moving on, not looking back, being bothered, pretending to be sane, being able to relate to that madness. Can one really not see it? -Can it be that its non existent, falling with nothing for too many reasons.

Now untouched and forgotten, underestimated and misjudged for its true value and purpose.
it now suffers and feels the pain you have become numb to.

Its simplicity, and its contradicting, you may not accept or understand that its alright to embrace it, and to leave this as it is. Your meaningless interpretations make no difference now, nor will they ever, because this life is untouchable and this life is not controlled or manipulated by anything in existence.