Folding thoughts like origami fortress of the hectic army a sea of fans cheering wildly and nothing certain waning mildly.
A pile of notes and bloated files of writings, the little terrors these forgotten worlds invite in. A choir of friendly voices turning choices into stressful hourly junctions degrading your peace and eroding your mental function.
I write in lines the complex as the simple but between them find a blurred reflection, a swirling mirror in which I seek answers but find only an ever increasing number of questions.
About: I write my thoughts in my notes to try and clarify them, but don't perceive any increase in clarity.