They say a person can’t hide from themselves but what if they hide in polluted air? Surely only then, the obscurities of their souls are hidden and faded away from the naked eye. The spirit lies in pure discernment in times, or at time were the poignant ending of their lives are none but self acknowledged forthcomings. I understand why some may not play by the book; they find loop holes or visual breakthroughs to get by their days. They say that man was never born for society and as greatly as they venture, a cloud of thoughts trail into memories, little can be done to forget and little can be done to be forgotten by it.
Perhaps the air isn’t dense enough to stop a person from breathing  but it certainly is enough to clog a thousand memories

Silhouettes harnessed to a scope only far enough to narrate that this world is like a rain storm except the thunder rumbles and it accepts its few seconds in the spot light but I, carry a surplus and let my rule in empty delight.