Bored With Time to Kill
My universe.
It's comprised of many things - many aspects. Some I choose to indulge..others I ignore. My universe is comprised of both love and hate. Fear and loathing. Anger and happiness. Rage and calmness.
The gears that work in my soul like clockwork turn and grind. Their metal teeth clashing with other teeth in order to make me function.
I function with a purpose ..The purpose to feed my desires.
My fuel is the warm black goo like substance that emanates from the left over residue from the fire that is the mechanism that drives me.
Sometimes ..my universe is cleansed, the fires rekindled - the dirty residue washed away like a flood washes away a city. The gritty teeth continue to grind and produce energy - the energy is then transformed into something beautiful - movement.
I move when it suits me and the never ending cycle of the teeth continue their journey until I stop yet again. The waves of energy that surge through my mind never stop. They flow through my Psyche unhindered and unchallenged. A man once said "I think therefore I am" where as "I am therefore I think" seems like a more prudent explanation for being. I stare blankly at the screen while it stares back penetrating my brain with its own energy and and residue from its gears.
Our energies mingle and intertwine and for that moment our energy is one.
The teeth move and I move..I move and the fire that burns within grows stronger while my brain waves grow weaker. When I sleep and dream with a dark veil clouding my vision from the darkened sky the gears stop and my brain waves refuel their endless pursuit to win. It's part of a race where all parties concerned will lose - its only a matter of time. When the teeth stop - the residue all but gone and the brain waves extinguished nothing will remain but a shell. A shell awaiting another recipient. My soul will be recycled - my gears put back to work all shiny and new. The Mechanics that drives me will work more efficiently until its been broken in.
My new shell will always beat the old shell. It is the cycle of life - beautiful and destructive. Always so beautiful