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 ^{(it's beta!)}

imagine waking up one morning and the world is tilting, trying to push you off the edge. imagine the precise center of a square. imagine a black room. just a solid, pitch black room and you're trapped in the center. everything is closing in on you, the walls, the ceiling. you can't see anything but you feel the walls caving in and you know it's not real. and then the realization that you're only as real as the walls around you, the colors when you close your eyes.

this is the beginning of something.

imagine sudden heightened perception. imagine perfect vision and hearing. focus on nothing and everything at once. picture a quiet night and a cool breeze. imagine the inescapable feeling of being so conscious of your body that you can feel someone else's footsteps as they walk quietly 10 feet down the sidewalk. and then your own footsteps, dead weight and they're louder than you can bear to hear so you stop and just concentrate on breathing. in and out. everything is tinted purple but it's impossible to tell if this is just your mind playing tricks or reality. in and out. rise and fall. everything around you obnoxiously screams the truths that you haven't yet accepted. serenely encouraging you to overcome. to prevail.

the world's at a slant.

the stars are clear some nights but others you question if they were ever really there at all. the walls are moving now but they're not even real. anything out of focus is constantly changing shape and nothing has a consistent essence.

you're not even real.

what will you leave behind?

are your words more valuable, more substantial than you know?

are your actions true to your intentions?

you're in a lucid dream state, wide awake. this is waking life but you've lost control. you're awake, dreaming; or you're dreaming you're awake but above all, you're silent. in and out. the pounding of your footsteps against the concrete is enough to help transcend from one state of understanding to the next. comprehending both but it counts for nothing because it's not real and it won't last. to articulate the words is futile because they mean nothing. each passing second is history, only remembered for the larger picture and not the scent or the ideas or the purple night breeze.

refuse to accept what is handed to you or you've gained nothing.

and remember the bigger picture means nothing, so Forget it.

and remember the details are all we have, we Live the details.