Desperation is Evident in the Tone of Your Voice.

Sometimes I find it terrible that I can always act like I know what I'm talking about, when, in actuality, I have no clue of the words escaping my mouth.

I can always have an answer. When a question is asked, I can always string together a bunch of pretty sounding words, explaining something that may or may not be related to the actual subject matter at hand.

Is this what everybody does?

Therefore, is everything just bull shit?

Does anybody truly know what they are talking about?

You can make a poem by throwing adjectives that catch the attention of people and nouns together.

Similies are like metaphors.

Metaphors are nothing.

Describe the words you cannot say.

Speak now, for you will soon be silenced.

Do I know what I am saying?

No, I do not.

Random words that harmonize.

Gracefully beautiful or beautifully graceful?

Are they the same?

I can't tell anymore.

Badge.

What am I saying?!

I can't tell anymore.

Do I have any purpose?

Nobody has a purpose.

Sounds depressing, does it not?

Then why am I smiling?

Emotions can be quite overrated.

But what isn't nowadays?

I never know.

You'll never know.

Nobody has any idea anymore.

Thought has been lost.

Mindnumbing society has killed it.

Slaughtered along with our freedom.

Freedom.

I miss it.

We were only free in the womb.

We're going back

in time

to 1984.

Slowly, but surely.

It is creeping.

Time grows slower the closer you approach the speed of light.

High speeds can warp anything.

A meter becomes a foot.

If you are moving at the speed of light,

Does time stop?

Is that the secret?

Past.

Past.

Past.

Past.

Past.

Present?

Now it is past.

Will this next one be future?

Now it's present.

Now it's past.

Timetimetime.

Spacetime.

Time.