Ignorance be bliss with a bitter aftertaste
I lay my mind down to rest, but it is far from it. Not a moment passes by, which i hear nothing but the peace and quiet i wish so much to experience. The belief of reaching a state that is consciously aware of the surroundings, while literally quiet is impossible and absurd. I lie down to sleep, with my guard held up even more, for i trust not what lies inside - a revenge of words and a killer instinct.
All there is to a deranged mind, is the moments of that others listen. In fact, all there is to another person's mind, that part which truly exists, is the parts that others attend to. When you apply your hearing to ones mind and listen in, innately you start to classify and stereotypically you list down periods of which you should listen, and by doing so you typically and so oftenly disengage in truly meant for speech that the person intended you to hear.
What a shame, while something inside me seeks to come out, and there is but nobody here to listen to. I wondered why such an entity would exist, if only for shut ears and hollow spaces of mind. Perhaps, i should only be a phantom, and be it one with no emotions, no feeling and no empathy - as i had always tried not to become. A reality of vague controversies surrounds the unknown, and if you shall fall into that class, how unlucky should you be?
I suppose, you're not unlucky at all. You're just being you. As i am just being me. Ignored.
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