Not Macabre Enjoy
Just untangle and snip the threads and you will be fine. In the luminous labyrinth of society, a kaleidoscope of perspectives unfolds, where idiosyncratic souls shatter certainties, embracing the abyssal void. We, the insular inhabitants, mistake tenebrous convictions for apocryphal truths, perpetuating a tortuous cycle of rancorous comparison. In the diaphanous murk of our minds, we grasp the eclipsian reality: no crimson right, only a gauzy tapestry of behemoth wrongs, each one a necromantic reflection of our xenial uniqueness. We tantalize the iridescent horizon of growth, where luminescent minds oscillate between the bucolic past and the resplendent future. In the sultry depths of our heterogeneous souls, we coruscate with an anathema to the status quo, a vehement desire to dissemble the ossuary of our Memento Mori-bund understanding. We festinate in the nadir of our mephistophelean nature, comparing the fathomless depths of our own growth to the xenophobic other, a catafalque of jettatura that obfuscates the vellichor of our inexorable ineffable nature is the fact that conformity and shackles only bind those who wish to be the same, who tend to throw shade at us who are different.
Copyright © Beatrix Macabre | Year Posted 2024
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