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Oct 2019
State of fugue, seek in this smoke of poisoning lungs
reading articles and books, offering function to this numb
inside the voids of my mind into this woods.

State of fugue, alone in forest, this wooden solace
where no human shape can be detected, a mind confined while my will is taken. Again smoking as a captive of a defying belief of failing or as a container of tears escaping.

State of fugue, is the maintenance of vice and virtue, but also of poor choices, hitherto we seek something and in oblivion we keep running into solitude and animal noises

State of fugue can be also an invented peace, while outside we pleased ourselves with more than electricity, the solitude of reality where no destructive humanity in present seeks.
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