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facade by day

days slink by
nights become semiamnesiac endeavors
deep above the inner shell
i put on a facade

of being alive

the hands of the clock are all that are real
incongruously give jolt of fear

to
wake the motherfuck
up

whenever whenever, whenever I pause

d{-_-}b

to enjoy life even for a second sometimes
stop to smell the roses
but leave our means of transport our thoughts and lives behind
through this realm unattended

and it gets stolen
by some inconsiderate bastard
and we miss the bus and then, having to walk
to our destination thru thorny meadows and the like
we look back and can not help pondering was it worth stopping?
and what was it like? what the fuck did i like?

it is but in the mind's eye of the beholder, forever - a figment of one individual from seven
seven-ass billion
one mind's eye

Was it worth enjoying life for that brief moment?
Indeed, the ability to master our
given tasks is masked by overwhelming choke of TIME's power
we are left with smaller timeframes to develop
and evolve ourselves

each passing second and the core of what each of us is
we will never know because
time will always suffocate our identities and
rob us of our personalities

no the only real thing i know is death
it is evident in everything
this world brings
people, animals, infrastructures, hopes, dreams,
ideas they all burn up in a shroud of thick flames and die.

But a strong man is one who makes up his own mind about his own mind.
We can only believe what makes sense to us.
We can only follow what we believe in.

We can only make sense of nonsense

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