intervals with irregular timing,
disquieting; I’m lost in imagining,
happy to be agitated but still, we despise it.
church bells that cruelly silence;
appliances and cold reminders,
our head’s filled with needles and thread.
a virtual walk in the real world,
we corrode as the people grow old;
we see the sky as we never could, now.
I recall a school trip that took place before I left high school. The entire time, I felt distant, as though I was aware of the transience of the world around me, and my soon to be responsibility - but also strangely calm. This entire account serves as a testament to my existence.
