how do you feel about reading something that’s not really there? you can stretch the lines so far apart that you can begin to deconstruct realities and extrapolate your own. basically, you can believe in whatever truths you want to believe in. its just that the key presumption of ‘truth’ will be subject to debate. closing your eyes for a second makes you remember that the lines are still there, fragile yet real. but yet you choose to look through them, in between them, outside of them. can you believe in something so much, that eventually, it overcomes the shadow of all doubts and begins to stand on its own? and then you can conveniently throw all the obvious out the window. it’s more exciting that way, don’t you think?
i write, not because i want people to read. i write, not because i want people to understand. i have no messages for anyone, and i write for no other reason than to satisfy a deeper understanding of the lines that criss-cross into a flurry of intangibles inside the pit of my stomach. everyone is always welcome to join the party, but remember..
caveat emptor… buyer beware.