you didn't have to feel a thing.
Ocean wide
And so you thought
You were going to slide
Far away
Away with the tide
Don't push away
Let me be your guide
So at least you know
you've tried
----------------
What happens when you feel like everything is against you?
Is it just the world?
Is it just you?
--------
The dark room reeked of a foul odour.
The dark room was cold.
The dark room was cold.
There it lay.
The most horrible thing.
The most ridiculous thing people would ever consume.
How could anyone even do something like that?
The most horrible thing.
The most ridiculous thing people would ever consume.
How could anyone even do something like that?
Was there a choice?
Was that the only means of survival?
Everything is about choice, of course.
Whether we choose to talk to the stranger next to us,
or eat the wild grass out of nowhere.
Was that the only means of survival?
Everything is about choice, of course.
Whether we choose to talk to the stranger next to us,
or eat the wild grass out of nowhere.
It's always a choice.
Was there a need for a choice to be made?
Was it okay to stagnate?
Was it okay to leave questions unanswered?
Was it okay not to have closure?
The hand reached out slowly,
a choice made.
The hand reached the object,
a little fear, a little trembling.
The object was a bottle,
it was filled with a stench.
A cringe expectantly formed,
a stomach growl was let out.
Was that a sign
that there was no choice?
Was it necessary?
Could determination overcome the odour?
It was thick and white,
from an animal.
An innocent animal,
Meh.
The mind was made up.
The brain was throbbing.
The sense of frustration
exponentially increasing.
A sip.
Just one sip,
in hope for the growling to stop.
A sip, it will be.
A sip.
The cringe turned into a scowl.
The frustration turned into anger.
The nauseating sickness overwhelming.
Was the only choice the right one?
Was it the only thing to do?
Was there even a choice?
Was there a possibility of not having any choice to make?
The bottle slipped out of the hand.
It smashed against the wall
about four meters away.
Was there a need for a choice to be made?
Was it okay to stagnate?
Was it okay to leave questions unanswered?
Was it okay not to have closure?
The hand reached out slowly,
a choice made.
The hand reached the object,
a little fear, a little trembling.
The object was a bottle,
it was filled with a stench.
A cringe expectantly formed,
a stomach growl was let out.
Was that a sign
that there was no choice?
Was it necessary?
Could determination overcome the odour?
It was thick and white,
from an animal.
An innocent animal,
Meh.
The mind was made up.
The brain was throbbing.
The sense of frustration
exponentially increasing.
A sip.
Just one sip,
in hope for the growling to stop.
A sip, it will be.
A sip.
The cringe turned into a scowl.
The frustration turned into anger.
The nauseating sickness overwhelming.
Was the only choice the right one?
Was it the only thing to do?
Was there even a choice?
Was there a possibility of not having any choice to make?
The bottle slipped out of the hand.
It smashed against the wall
about four meters away.
The backsplash was equally disgusting.
The nauseating smell continued.
The room was so dark.
There was no escape.
Or was escape a choice, once again?
The nauseating smell continued.
The room was so dark.
There was no escape.
Or was escape a choice, once again?
--------
Where would the roads lead to
if you didn't know how to drive?
if you didn't know how the engine works?
if you didn't know how to stop accelerating?
if you didn't know what might happen next?
if you didn't know how to drive?
if you didn't know how the engine works?
if you didn't know how to stop accelerating?
if you didn't know what might happen next?
----------------
M.
no, you're never alone.
Comments
Post a Comment