Existence, consciousness ..
who are we and what do we do ..
A puff out .. a drag of cold air, racing .. racing .. head full of existential thoughts . ..
Living, a wine glass .. a shot of warmth down my throat . . Emotions these running flow of consciousness .. why do I think it all ?
Lying, in the dark .. an athem of sort, in silence reforms .. ideas and lack of them .. and thoughts, a void is born !
Internalising emotions .. finding my thoughts so alive in this darkness ..
Hurriedly may I pass away to a lack of form ..
Insanity .. beckons me .. and what more can I do but nod .. meaning, I seek meaning. And not an iota of cognition is ever got.
Tired, I am tired of life as I know it, the bones ache, the thoughts become nonsensical and we deliver as we are meant to .. not very sure, not very sound .. in the air . . drifting slowly, and surely .. towards an end.
What is this eternal rack of hell that we are accustomed to... What is this longing for something that has passed us far by .. who am I even, floating aimless .. who are we, under our skin tight hides.
Disaster in the waiting, a last beacon calls to the inward eye .. and I see, albeit shrouded in dark .. nothing. Alas, no meaning.. an absurd, surreal delusion called Life.