All motivation stands on baseless fantasy to escape the thought that death is a better choice. Such a potent option has to be snuffed, it's a distraction from these goals that blow around in the air like brownian fluff.
All because we can't tell how fast we're losing time if we're sitting on where we are. There's a rift and it drives us apart.
People rush to negate you when you let these thoughts traipse through undiluted with diplomatic fear.
But they follow.
Wherever you are, near the base of your conscience.
Your constant companion and source of compassion.
I just can't seem to swallow anymore time.

Turned to signal lights towards an elusive mindset
Wanting to **** a tempest for a miles jog down godlike rain. Antagonizing no one just a prolapse of all other values simultaneously fighting modernity alighted.