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I am a master in my eyes, a master in disguise. So cleverly concealing pertinent feelings of thoughts, one's intrusive dealings, that are boiling my insides. A wizard behind a curtain, that’s how this all feels. A brick road made of corpses, with one's past life’s dealings preserved, paved and sealed. A heart, a brain, and courage are the lesser of my wants. Something I truly desire is to be free from all the standards that are expected of me. To simply have the ability to understand the world as a whole, instead of society’s pressure and expectancy of things that shine organically. I know Diamonds are produced under mass pressure brought on by their surroundings. I refuse to walk with people who claim to have hearts, when their actions show other, and their minds think in one-digit parts. I sometimes wish I could just click my heels together and poof, new start. Just trek on, over stones along my path. I can’t help but wonder, if someone is pressing buttons and pulling strings behind a curtain and all that, yeah it sounds crazy when you say that out loud. Sometimes I feel that it is that, for certain.. somehow. All these Pictures of my life and the stories that they tell, have now become tortuous memory prisons, tiny painful cells. So, I won't hope for more memories, no new energy, no thank you. In fact, I'd like it if there was a wizard behind a curtain somewhere. It is almost comforting to know for certain somebody is pulling strings, removing human beings from the remaining veil-covered living we are dieing to exist. Yet still, our existence we squander. Aimlessly following a road shamelessly, no self-awareness, just people playing contrary-to-action,  games with questioning.  I don’t want your heart that is made of stone, or your brain which is composed of birds nesting sticks and air alone, and what you consider courage is like a rat in a tiger’s home, fear coats him and only fear alone. I am not mad at what character past plays that you've been casted, because honestly your past warped acting and idea of what is, has made the brickroad a path truth seekers take comfort in. A road to somewhere, no one really knows. A journey to a curtain way past the light, covering a being who says what goes, what is certain, and what is right.
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