(no subject)
it's like looking through a golden reflection: seeing what's there but in a tinted, almost haunted, light, in which the distorted colors dance, flickering to beats unkown to yourself and captivating you, trapping you, refraining you from the world to the point where a light flickers and you have to ask yourself whether or not it was you that had blinked or the light; you just become detached and stare off into the shadowed lights; shadowed because the golden tint was much darker than your complection, pulsing as you moved closer almost as if to touch it or to touch it, to question its tangibility, though you would never dare so in fear that someone, an observer or a bypasser, would catch you and mock you for it, despite how real, how it seemed to whisper to you, how it seemed to glow and trap you within, until finally, you were stuck; caught in the net of some extensive trap which had been set to not only lure your eyes, but to trap your soul for eternity in the self-absorbtion. Stuck. Forever.