(0226) in time...

death detached on the 25-year-old brain. it doesn't even matter anymore... because when i was younger, i used to breathe cleaner air. i used to see in color and lived in a bubble. i knew not of anything i know now. frequent inconsistency has become my theology. all value has disappeared - collapsed into a single fear that nothing's out there in the blackest of space. we all hide our insecurities and project our rationality. we live secretly in our shells. enough of the play-by-play and day-to-day... the unending static broadcasting over the waves... i woke up with the innocence of a baby's insignificance. i was laughing and crying at the same time. i was ecstatic about my obliviousness. i felt nothing yet everything. i wanted out, but i was already outside of reality. i wanted to be alive or dead... because i was neither. i fell asleep with the guilt of an unpaid debt to my own consciousness.

impatient reactions. walk away. in the winter is when the ice will come.