There are these buried questions within!
The sub concision has its’s own reality.
Archived in the brain, a lifetime of who I have been.
My question is why such complexity?
From time immemorial humankind have self-dialog conversations
The voice of God or Devil or just you?
I get it, I was born to die like every life form there is,
My question still remains “why”? what purposes ?
I think of every consequence ,every effect.
The over think is a ‘hobble’! a glass ceiling.
Need to drag out the ventilator.
breathe new life into my poetry.
the philosophical round about is leaving me giddy.
The need to break out is now, the immoveable will always be there.
