Freewrite Blue

It's lonely out in space. The winds change, the times reflect back on what you want.
Nonsensical senses stop the truth from being alive.
String of words, one of which isn't real. The sole word on the page that isn't real is forever inked in. Damn you for wanting to be special. No, don't damn you, I should be congratulating you for thinking outside the rectangle.

I am not happy at the loneliness in space and online. Plug in, plug out, keep up with reality and dump it all online.

Stress stress blocks my channels of communication. I told her I loved her and stress stress stress gets in the way. She told me she loved me too, so that's wonderful but stress stress is in the way.

So smart; so beautiful; so afraid of reality. Reality hurts you because you're sensitive. Sensitivity is akin to light and dark projections of the mind upon the wall.

I try and I try but I don't really understand it. I fall and I fall, I can't rearrange it. And I'm trapped inside 'till the morning comes.

I can keep writing forever. There is an endless amount of words that I can put together in near-infinite permutations but what's the use in it all? The use is only found later.

Wishes and dreams come true; but when they do, sometimes, you're not very prepared and you become scared because they start fading away. And as you're grasping to keep the shambles from disappearing again, you lose track of the present. You get lost in the future. You vanish into the past.

The possibilities are amazing. I could be with her and before I know it, I'm feeling happy again. Feeling happy and I can't stay happy forever. I sure as hell can't stay sad forever either, so that's a comfort.

Before the shocks and lasers that shoot from the auras of the bodies in the cold streets, I ask for protection. Sometimes, I cast a spell unconsciously and the protection is there without me realizing it.

FUCK. Harsh harsh harsh, is that my basal ganglia acting up again?
Honey. Soft soft soft, darling you're in my mind and I won't let go this time.

We're two in one. We're both real. He taped over my mouth and plastered everything with fake realities created by fake people with fake ideas about a fake world.

I have the key to the real world. I need to find the lock.

More time to be mindful. Less time to procrastinate.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope