The cycle has been completed. All conflicts resolved. All perplexities reduced to innuendo and pointless nuance. Things I can’t (or more adeptly, don’t) want to deal with I’ve concealed.
Basically things have returned to their original state. Cause, well, I know better than to let cause and effect join hands — in my current state I wouldn’t know how to handle the division of this synthesis required to maintain a causality equilibrium. (Oh there I go again, using big words to veil puny intent to not really share)
Am doing this from the back of a dingy bathroom. The walls are loud, seven million decibels of dubstep. The flickering neon has a scent to it. All too familiar. I’ve flown in the face of common sense before. But this is just dumber than a jar of cum.
Structure. Structure. Structure. This isn’t it. But being numbed isn’t really recovering anymore. Am back here where everything has unfolded in this place to resemble a deep welcoming fissure. This sanctum that opens secret entries into darkness in the short interval between dusk and dawn.
None of my principles will prove to work here. I know, am retreating. I know that this place won’t hold hostages this abyss will swallow me whole and spit me out, full of confusion and langourously sated.
Am hiding in a bathroom stall and I can feel the abyss yawn. Am documenting. Am waiting. Godot and what not. Am waiting coz I sense the approach of dawn. Am waiting coz the deepest darkness is only as patient as my impatience.