i looked on to the aftermath of my past, the triggers of events leading to the precariously crafted self, now typing the words once crossed my mind have deepscaped into the unrelenting ticking of time in seconds,which now is the past, a memory. what was, and what is... what was and what is is the sum of all the hopes diminish and resurfaced in the black pool of streaming time, locked in the present. What were we looking for all these times, in the bleek or bright forethoughts to come? Something pure that trails our dreams, our hopes in disguise of things, feelings, a moment of conviction. And when that comes, we struggle with ends to keep it alive, even more so to keep the intensity on the rise to our insatiable hunger. sometimes this drives you to be too caught up in it.
being to caught up brings a inconceivable boundarys to your present choices. a sort of frame you use to frame old photographs in preserving that moment, memory while watching your present folding away. It holds you back, for everytime you look away, you'd miss a detail, or you'd watched it collapse into an idea, where you play god in this event, a director, snipping and slipping pieces that wasn't there before. you become a victim of the idea of things.
one day you've woken up, aware of how things were changed, unaware that you've missed all the changes in you. sometimes changes like these are painstaking, and the cast of your past lurks around the back of your mind, waiting like a trap for your slipup. when it does, it washes over you,what was the wake before slips into a dream. The banality of it seems to strike many people. for some, it was too late to wake, when the edge between wake n sleep starts getting fuzzy, till you fall into the edgelessness of it. your trapped. that thought terrorizes me.
it may seem easy when your told to just look ahead the horizon of time without getting trapped in a vertical loop hole, but the truth is, we have dozens, if not millions of loop holes, like habits, thoughts, memories, idiosyncrasy, fears, your innate character in things. these loops are not noticable, for the sizes of it until a disruption happens.
we leave trails while walking in the presence of it all. trails so we can backtrack to see what's gone wrong. i've come to terms with my hunger, review my trails, broken my frame. i'm looking ahead with an occasional glance to what was, striding ahead unknowingly but sure.
