I’m currently running out of ideas and sense of consciousness. Thoughts seem to be running back and forth my brain but my stroked being can’t seem to grasp and fortify the same. Being too long under the weather has really taken its toll.
It has furthered me to give up and surrender. It teases me with reality. Truth suggests me to stop my abstract hallucination of life. It is halting my phase because of my condition. Be dead or die. I should stop.
But this rage inside me unknowingly holds me back to further go on. This voice asks me to strive, work and aspire more despite my complicated condition. It taught me to draw my strength through my work and the people I somehow affect.
I know and fully aware of my flaws and literary inadequacies but those won’t stop my freedom of self-expression as well as my humble and ‘stroked’ line of thinking.