Even though I should be paying full attention to
[insert whatever ******* priority is taking up your creative space here]
I must write this:

Things are slowly becoming less magical
My view is less romantic

I'm trying very hard to see it like I once did
But songs are becoming a blend of different frequencies
Writing is becoming a clusterfuck of sentences that may or may not be important
People are becoming an amalgamation of what they want to be -
A pastiche of everything they once dreamed they could be but slowly realized they are not

But my intuition is still right
Sometimes

Every now and again it reminds me that these little instinctual things
These nothings that pop into my head
Come from a higher place
Should this place be a part of my brain
I cannot access - so be it
But if it's a force of some sort
Pushing me further and further into this illusion
I think I would prefer that

It saves me from doing all the work