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Half poem, half critic mundane beings. Let your imagination drive these words.
Asleep all day long, before the labour time bell rings halftime and dusk reminds them that they are Human. In a place and time when the clock strikes the full vertical, his and her soul are sold, or better gone. Maybe to another dimension, or maybe a dark room, where the old man kept them locked in. A place where the chains were screwed to the very deepest parts of your brain, secured by a special system that caged your neurones, condemning them to temporary solitude. This is what mass propaganda looks like.
When the clock hands invert, the boy and the girl are finally free, as well as the other billions of little innocent ones up in their head. Anxious and strained of being apart for so long, à soulless power has poisoned them for the rest of the night. He was ready to take over the world, and she was already on the moon. They met on a blue bed top and left their souls drift on the powerful love current.
Nocturnal Animals Part 2
In every street, of every city, in every world, lies not many but one intoxicated story. This one transcends time and the chronology we are all victims of. There lied young boy, lately he wondered why his chest ached, lying on the street floor, drunk! From head to balls! He realised it was the emptiness that caused it, the void that the cycle left, it had dug in him a spiral hole.
So, on the cold pavement he imagined: “Emptiness is not a lack or a missing, it is being full of the wrong light”
Break the cycle
The voice whispered to him, it is time, the cycle is renewing: You will soon renew and enter the void. It was midday, autumn, carpets of orange and yellow leaves were delicately placed besides the sidewalks, the sun a late wake as usual, just started peaking around. The cold and wet wind made it the perfect environment to feel as if we were fighting against something. While he walked, he felt it trough his skin, he couldn’t go back, like some fruit it was his time, he will never go back. Those kisses, those dances he had done them, they will feel colder now, and he would not understand why. Cause feelings are just as clear as crystals hidden in the guts of this earth he constantly hurried on, - “look, the bus is already leaving!”. Running, just to realise when he got there that it had already left long ago, the void left without him this time. He felt it in his bones, finally! He escaped the cycle, it did not matter if the bus was on time or not, he could already feel the early raindrops on his hair, those reminded him of letting go, because there was nothing left to hold on anymore.
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