To think is to exist. But what if everything you are thinking is not actually real? What if it is all a product of imagination. A dream. Worse. A nightmare. I have lived my life a segment at a time for the past two years. It seems to come in three month cycles in which each is filled with different places, different people; different interests. I will learn and I will teach. Then, I will disappear. Only to become a voice that speaks from the other side of the world or from the depths of a silicon-powered screen. But never have I become the voice inside a head or an audience from above.
It was far too close of a call. My mind fell asleep and took me deep into a nightmare, and I almost lost my body and my soul. We take our lives as nothing. Like we will never die. We reflect on what it means to never be again, but we never actually get to the last breath. We then reach the screaming, the crying. The resistance. The despair.
But what does it all mean? The crying? The dying? In the routine act tapping a finger against a key, it's hard to envision a vacant screen that lies ahead. And when seeing that absence of words, it is easy to realize all of those words that were never said. All the words that were said. All the words that now lie dead. In waking up in the same shoes of an idol, I was sure that I lay dead. And as I dreamed away to heaven, all I saw was you. But now that I am still here, you are still here too.
Still here. Still so far away.
It was far too close of a call. My mind fell asleep and took me deep into a nightmare, and I almost lost my body and my soul. We take our lives as nothing. Like we will never die. We reflect on what it means to never be again, but we never actually get to the last breath. We then reach the screaming, the crying. The resistance. The despair.
But what does it all mean? The crying? The dying? In the routine act tapping a finger against a key, it's hard to envision a vacant screen that lies ahead. And when seeing that absence of words, it is easy to realize all of those words that were never said. All the words that were said. All the words that now lie dead. In waking up in the same shoes of an idol, I was sure that I lay dead. And as I dreamed away to heaven, all I saw was you. But now that I am still here, you are still here too.
Still here. Still so far away.
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