It's you, and it's me. And how I can't catch up to time. It's the wind, and the silence. And my heartbeats that sound with yours.
I will never reach it, will I? Not until I reach you, but you, too, are unreachable. Am I, to you, as you are, to me? I know, but don't, until I see you again.
Stay right there, so that I can find you, but come to me; find me. Wait for me; I'm waiting for you. Meet me there, where we agreed so long ago. I will be there, and so you will be too.
Born from flesh. Exist as flesh. Make no mark. Gone. Nothing remains.
The dam has broken, but not the one of the eyes; it is the one of the heart, of the soul, of the mind. The thoughts flow endlessly and without direction, yet still cling to the beaten path of the buried truth.
I have been lost for so long in the haze of teenage angst that one might think that I don't even know how to function in society anymore. Surprise; I am still a functional human being with my petty human desires and minuscule human values and tedious human dreams of grandeur.
Sensory overload, but it feels incredible. I can see everything and I can hear all. Colours bloom intermittently and unceasingly and instantly. Music sounds and resounds at a speed with which no sound and all sound can be heard.