The tentacles pull you further down into the deep, deep ocean. You're helpless like a child. You're running out of breath, you're forgetting how to swim.
How soon is now, how much longer?
Some days are harder than most, you try and yet you can't think of a reason to hold on. Letting go has never felt so easy. Write it all down on a piece of paper, articulate the thoughts and try to blame no one else but yourself.
The trance-like state induced by meditation starts to get harder, darker. There is a strange kind of manic euphoria. Like the queen who rises from the underbelly of shit and duplicity and destruction, you transcend. The moments are rare but you know, only you know that it exists. You're careful not to tell anyone. They wouldn't believe you, they haven't seen what's on the other side. It is difficult to fathom so they brush it away, going about their daily, circular existence. The loop goes on and on.That one infinite moment of peace (?)...is not for everyone, it is the most elusive, most sacred thing you can experience.
On nights you try to embrace sobriety, no longer feeling the urge to run away. What are you running from? You're running in circles, never ahead.
How soon is now?
How soon is now?
