(no subject)
We're waiting. It's simply the clock ticking agaisnt us, and that's fine. We have plenty of time to kill until the right moment comes. We could dance to beat of the ticking and tocking of the clock that has suddenly run out of batteries. If only time had really stopped, we would of captured that moment right in our very hands. If only we had that one chance to twist the hour hand back a few days, a few hours, a few minutes. Things could be different. But this is all unreal and a fantasy that constantly reruns in all our heads at the same time. If we stood in a line , all of us, holding our hearts out, we could see how damaged and broken and truly faded all of us are. How long are we going to stand here with our hearts in our hands? This all leads back to time. How much longer? You never gave a clear answer as to how we cope with the fact that our live beating hearts have been ripped out of our chests and beat restlessly in our weak and shaking hands. If there is an answer, you won't tell us. Because you know if you did, action upon action would take place and our hands would be washed clean of the blood and the wearyness and exhaustion. So tell me this, what extremes does one have to take to pry the truth out of anything? It seems as though our biggest enemy is the truth itself. It's not faceable, it's not realistic, and it's terrifying. Perhaps thats why most of us grow up to be the most satisfying profession there is , a pathelogical liar. Someday, we will all fall off the cliff of lies that we have manually made for ourselves and find that when we hit the bottom, it isn't a pile of rocks. It's not a jagged edge or a pile of knives. It's simply a cushion that was ready to catch us from day one.