It’s those sporadic mental pauses where my emotions begin to separate from my intuition
In less than one thought, the spiraling effect of disappointment in inevitable imperfection is grasping at my neck
So raw yet potent of an emotion overcomes my spirit and I have become trapped in a space where logic holds no grounding
My eyes start to believe exactly what they want to see. Applying discernment is neglected and mocked all for a little taste of rebellion and apathy
The ambiguity. The opportunity for deception and chaos. One strong grasp is all it would take to leave the burdensome responsibilities of “letting it go”.
No extension of grace. Just dive in with the faults. No more room for the noise yet it always feels welcomed. Knowledge cultivated but not disciplined.
Oh the power. Whoa the fragility. This intense rush of wanting to unleash verbal assaults is numbing the awareness and past mistakes of speaking prematurely
This psychological warfare. The cold embrace. It’s dangerously alluring. Tempting to want to dismiss my identity for the sake of misplaced intentionality
How do I always seem to find my way back to this? It is like the memories enjoy toying with my pride. So far removed from reality at times, forgiving self can only be imagined
Self-preservation from self. So much for reflection. Then again, the continuation of breath must mean something…
TheKiaraProject 