I am slipping.
As I stand before my death overtakes my already weary body, my own words being defiled as the world decided to turn its back towards me, I can only do nothing but to stare back into its eyes, full of nothingness and dread.
My life is rigged with explosive conversations and the whispers of an atom bomb. Every single event that occurs in my life seemed to be rigged with mines of the mind, the leeches of emotion that latches onto you once you decide to step over. Funny thing is, I never once stepped over the lines, and has always prided myself into the notion of giving little care. However, my heart is not my mind, and thus, with heavy contradictions to my beliefs, I stepped over, and found that there is a new horizon that shone itself upon me as I crossed to the other side.
Death.
Death of friendships. Death of trust. Death of lust. Death of all emotions. A spectrum of what I once was is now locked up in its cage, a rusty one that could shake off its flakes of copper around the floor. I am thoroughly lost in this world of mine, and as I struggle to go back into the world of ignorance, the line extends itself even further. I am stuck. Stuck in this world that devours glory, fame, passion and love.
Perhaps all I needed to do is to draw a new line, to revert back to the world of not caring, of not believing, of not submerging myself into pools of doubts and hypocrisy. I am a walking atlas that points itself in the wrong direction, and I have been walking miles and miles towards it, unyielding, unrelenting. I have set myself onto this path of destruction, and Death beckons me yet again, a solid being that warms my dampened soul.
An eternal life of me worried over events that has never occurred yet has already begun. The cynic in me is laughing at this notion, this sudden change of the direction in my life, and yet here I am, typing this, unwilling to give myself into this cesspool of decay and corruption.
Ha! Maybe I am different after all. Different.
An indifference.
