justfabrications (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justfabrications) wrote2010-10-06 08:17 pm
justfabrications) wrote2010-10-06 08:17 pm
Entry tags:
026
words have more meaning when triggered.
it's funny to think that we're driven by emotions all the time. we live for moments when fingers type faster than minds can process it all. looking back and rereading the spur-of-the-moment ones makes us laugh and cry altogether, and we think, how would we ever live without having words at our disposal? we're not sure we'd be able to manage the hysteria, euphoria, anger... the whole gradient of feelings that hit within a lifetime. it's because words speak so much more when accompanied.
years later, we're still looking at the raw complexity of unknown phrases, self-interpreting, self-accepting, self-deprecating. the very essence that makes and builds us is more than capable of destroying us. we've built memories on cliches, reassured ourselves with lies, made more excuses than there were truths, but by this time tomorrow, it all comes down to words.
in the 21st century, anonymity is a powerful asset. we hold so much pride that we're unbreakable in real life, but the mask transforms sins into virtues well enough that we can play any other character perfectly. at night, we lie in bed awake, thinking about these various roles in life and wondering which ones are real and which ones aren't. some nights we fall asleep and dream of dreams we can't remember, but the feelings are only too fresh the next morning.
we imagine that something chaotic is born every day. it is wild and strong and gorgeous, so much that we can't contain it unless we are. there is sacrifice made with every emotion on the spectrum, and we are whispering i love yous and please, save mes all in stunning synchronicity without the faintest realization. and so we define the root of epiphanies from inherent sentiments otherwise intangible. the silence is so loud that it's deafening, we'd think.
breathe in. breathe out.
we're still alive in this beautiful mess of a world.
it's funny to think that we're driven by emotions all the time. we live for moments when fingers type faster than minds can process it all. looking back and rereading the spur-of-the-moment ones makes us laugh and cry altogether, and we think, how would we ever live without having words at our disposal? we're not sure we'd be able to manage the hysteria, euphoria, anger... the whole gradient of feelings that hit within a lifetime. it's because words speak so much more when accompanied.
years later, we're still looking at the raw complexity of unknown phrases, self-interpreting, self-accepting, self-deprecating. the very essence that makes and builds us is more than capable of destroying us. we've built memories on cliches, reassured ourselves with lies, made more excuses than there were truths, but by this time tomorrow, it all comes down to words.
in the 21st century, anonymity is a powerful asset. we hold so much pride that we're unbreakable in real life, but the mask transforms sins into virtues well enough that we can play any other character perfectly. at night, we lie in bed awake, thinking about these various roles in life and wondering which ones are real and which ones aren't. some nights we fall asleep and dream of dreams we can't remember, but the feelings are only too fresh the next morning.
we imagine that something chaotic is born every day. it is wild and strong and gorgeous, so much that we can't contain it unless we are. there is sacrifice made with every emotion on the spectrum, and we are whispering i love yous and please, save mes all in stunning synchronicity without the faintest realization. and so we define the root of epiphanies from inherent sentiments otherwise intangible. the silence is so loud that it's deafening, we'd think.
breathe in. breathe out.
we're still alive in this beautiful mess of a world.