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Jan 2017
I'm not motivated at all. I once held high aspirations, dreams unlike most, fought to be strong, to hold my pride and marvel at my strength, to accomplish what most can't. Yet I grew weary. It's a constant battle. If not my own, the others and the world's. Constant trumoil, with little true accomplishments. Watching as it all begins to rot, knowing that changing that is near to impossible. For it is these thoughts, that call for revolution, for change, for justice, true unbiased justice. To be born in a world where ignorance gets you killed and ridiculed, yet no matter what, we remain with some sort of blindfold, ignorant forevermore. To unveil it and see with true eyes, to see the depressing reality, why it crushes what little hope I held for humanity. Dimmed it down to a low flickering flame. I rather leave the blindfold, even if I can see through it, at least it'll block some of reality away. Because no one truly lives in it anymore. They all hide with their "justified" thoughts. Believing only their way is correct. That any other path will lead to self destruction. Not trying to seek other roads, to detach themselves and see life for what it is. Instead they aim to create life what the wish for it to be. With many individuals doing this, reality isn't real. But a mirage. And the battle isn't to bring peace or make things right, but to have their mirage be the strongest, to make it reality. So to hell with it. Let my soul slumber for now, to heal itself from what it's seen. The good isn't enough. Too much hate and darkness pollutes life. When my hide is thicker, when my hold on his mirage is stronger, I will aim to disperse it, to clear the fog. But what if at the end, my reality is nothing but my own mirage? One too weak to bring joy?
Javier  Garza
Written by
Javier Garza
288
   Ryan Hoysan
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