This world with its lifeless forms doesn’t excite me anymore.
The abundance of continuation all around…
Same old days,
same old nights,
same old sunsets,
same old tides along the dead shores,
same man woman dilemma.
The struggle for survival sometimes feels like a fallacy…
I guess the only way this land of constant ruinations exist because there are differences.
Between people, between morbidness,
between solitude.
Though I don’t get humanity the way I get my hallucinations but it’s true and it’s the only way that humanity has outlived because of this distant contrasts.
And after all this time,
even after living days through edges and spending nights without foods and senses…
It still seems beautiful to know a person with bizarre mindsets,
I guess that’s the only way poets and sensitivity flourish…
There’s no other way,
no other madness.

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Photograph: Tom Paiva.