Floating and whispering through the air. Lightly – but still falling. More scenery at every level. Problems come slow, the fall is justified and you know where the bottom is. You see the emptiness around the emptiness inside you. It’s that blatant. The air has an abstract chill to it. But you think to yourself, “this is safe.”
Now, a collage of noise that you call music is filling the room with an ambiance of clutter. Left and right. Right and left. It slows, you feel the pressure building. That person enters the room with such a barrage of enthusiasm. Your hair moves and your heart skips a beat. They’re staring at you with heartfelt eyes. You bat your eyes to elude to something more. The air has an abstract chill to it. But you think to yourself, “this is safe.”
“Stop!” You exclaim. My mind is altering my atmosphere with desperate gasps of any glimpse or hope of a splash of fresh air – or is it your mind? Always saving yourself for a touch of class, that elegance that never seems to last. You brush up against a freshly painted wall and roam around tainted. With nowhere specific to go and nothing meaningful to accomplish you realize the air has an abstract chill to it. But you think to yourself, “this is safe.”
Footnote:
These are just words. They are what the music brings. Don’t try to read anything into them other than what they are. =]
Interested in changing the world.