Cannot be caught seen with these minute hues of blue amidst this sea of eloquent green. Divulging what appears to me to be a jigsaw puzzle, so visibly laden with pieces that should most patently not fit, stands evocative of a reality so menacing that I continue to strive to circumvent its materalising.
I must shun the existence of any intricacy within that cannot be encapsulated by the brevity of societal labels. Contending with emotions so extraneous, an experience bound to bereave me of my truth. The pains of contemplation seldom did reap without the acquisition of a scar or two.
It is preferable to shrink the essence of my being to these tags so concise than to be confronted by the horrors of introspection. Of what I may unearth, perhaps an implication so contradictory to what I have come to adopt, I think not. In the face of calamity, I'd have these tags readily accessible, with no hint of uncertainty, much less an impending enforcement to delve deeper within.
The circle I would then attempt to construct, an echo chamber of my principles, would prove no dwelling for the onlooking quibblers. In media promulgating no differing reality, I would congeal my home. Ever-resistant to the proposal of expanding these self-constituted fringes, I would begin to thrive shielded by the protection of this illusion - for as cumbersome as my efforts be, I cannot dismiss the bit of reality that remains objective. My conscious choice to remain ignorant.
YOU ARE READING
The frivolity on my mind
Non-FictionEmploying an occasional sarcastic tone, here is an attempt at capturing emotions (in the form of letters, addressed to or about (in)tangible entities)) that have so often been the subject of my ponderances, because nothing weighing me down should be...
