Chaos Becomes Nature

  It's perfectly fine to feel like an outsider all the time.  You are not insane.  You are actually more aware of exactly what this mechanical matrix wants to convince you that your current limitations are somehow permanent.  You are one who no longer seeks to fit into the confines of mortal Society's prison walls.

  Sometimes, the bird just needs to perch.  Stare through the broken window blinds not knowing, not caring for a moment in time.  No matter how long the moment, again, it is only that.

  Sadly, however, the bird's wings will begin to deteriorate as it sits in isolation.  Isolation becoming a perpetual wedded bliss of Saviour versus Saved.  The bird's wings soon carry a heavy, useless weight upon it's fragile body, causing despair to invade it's own survival instincts.

  Yet, the body still breathes.  Air enters through it's lungs as the heart still pumps for life.

  We now enter the phase which permits the bird to intuitively think and wonder about all that is above, below, and beyond.  It sees through the blurry haze of the all-encompassing trenches of self-doubt. 

  To become free from the monsters who seek to convince her that the only reason for existence is to make love with sweet Misery.  These degenerative predators who consume each other day in and day out just as Cannibals, creating chaos out of Nature.

  Only, they forget to remind themselves that out of Chaos, became Nature.

  (to be coninued..)