Letter

I wanna run away from inspiration sometimes, cause it hurts too much. It's too hot to touch. It glows so bright in the middle of the night that if I write too much I might confuse it with sunlight. I'm at the sunrise of my art, my heart is still intact. Imagine when it will be plastered, it's the thing I lack. I need to be broken by someone to pick up the pieces and rebuild myself the way I envision myself. I want to come up with my own name.
Is a true genius untamed? Cause you have to break the chain of society to be able to become civilized. You have to break out of the illusion of safety induced in your soul through fear. You have to wander in your mind and find your utopia to be able to build it. I say don't worry about time, you'll continue working on it after you die. I say don't worry about circumstances, make the best with what you have. For instance, take a hammer and build your home, to be able to sit relaxed and have nothing to worry about. Don't bother with what others have to say. Tell them to get out of your way and to have a nice day. Don't kill their free will, they're free to do that themselves. They're free to be slaves. You must fly away from the night's decay. Don't let stray dog barks break your bark and get to your roots, your purpose is deeper than that. Your existence is no coincidence. It's a bad excuse to say you're useless. Look for your purpose, use a magnifying glass, look through the keyhole. Look for the key! Don't waste time. Don't be lazy. Amaze me.

Yours truly,
Destiny.


P.S.: I'm you.

Awake

Floating uselessly in space, counting seconds
I forgot what Newton said, I must be present
I'm falling through space like another universe
I only exist in the eyes of God himself
Press the space bar and separate yourself
You're different, put a minus sign to sign yourself
Sit between four walls and analyze yourself
Your whole life is worth less than a book shelf
Yet you indulge in accepting your ego's endearments
You feast on them instead of love and remain dormant
You're dust on a rock, gun cocked for gold socks
Run from the cops to get to the top
I sit on a mountain, looking at you sideways
I'm falling through space like another dimension
Getting smaller by the second, but what is expansion?
Relax your muscles and meditate, let the stars shower you
You're not allowed to be in a bad mood
You're screwed by people, not by life, its beauty got us reproducing
Otherwise this wouldn't be amusing
It would be a waste of time
But who owns time? It's a figment of the mind.
I forgot what Einstein said, I must be present
Makes no difference if you're a genius or a peasant
If you're a nuisance, you get cured by the backspace
What happens at the end of time? Does space get erased?
What about the love I felt for today?
Or for the one I longed for til my very last day?
Do my efforts get praise? Or do I die without seeing you escape from this maze?
I don't care about myself, I want to see you grow wings and fly away...
You're all heaven needs to stay awake.

Pain

“Observe the attachment to your pain. Be very alert. Observe the peculiar pleasure you derive from being unhappy. Observe the compulsion to talk or think about it. The resistance will cease if you make it conscious. Stay present as the witness and initiate its transmutation.”

— Eckhart Tolle