Thursday, 25 January 2018


Entangled, woven, completely integrated into the surroundings of my current situation, I’d like to escape but I cannot. When you slow time, when you relax and just view your life, you can usually start to see the cracks of time, glossed over by vanity, excuses and the knowledge of age. We don’t have to face everything, we can ignore everyone, all the while gasping to escape the wicked web we weave with our actions.

Entangled, trapped, freely giving in to the circumstances of life. We say a word here, do something over there, seemingly oblivious to the obvious repercussions of our actions. We’re a living, breathing, torrent of turmoil and angst trying to remain calm in the face of our own ideals burning into flames right in front of our eyes. It’s easy to stay as simple as the sun that shines in the sky yet, knowingly, complicating things with but the flick of a key or the start of a message.

Entangled, static, finding comfort in the ever agony of each step into the wilderness. We’re wild, we’re uncontrollably falling through the very thoughts of perfection, while struggling to even like the face that we see each and every single morning. We’re engrossed in becoming the beauty that’s already within the very skin we wear.

Entangled, embroiled, ensnared to the vacuum of whispers. We know who we are, we know from whence we came, who held our hands to guide us at an early age, yet, find fault with wisdom and the very common sense that could see us through to a new dawn. The light hurts, the darkness caresses, those said whispers asking us to commit more self-fraud until there’s hardly the person you were, remaining.

Entangled, procrastinating, saying one thing while doing another. We seek selfish comfort from others, feeling them against us, touching us, all the while feeding our own desires. The white lies, the floating promises, asking and wishing for others to play a role within the mind filled fantasies of selfishness. It feels alive, it feels full of energy, sparking our hearts into life while also strangling our moral and ethic knowledge. We know, we realise, we even chastise ourselves but, nevertheless, continue anyway.

Entangled, selfish, the sins of the few becoming the sins of the world. What was once neglect now becomes fashion, our faith, our very ideals marketed to us like the very cattle we consume each and every single day. We’re products, we’re barely alive, marching slowly forward until the day we finally realise that it’s far too late. This wicked mess that we create, the copy of the letter A until we reach B, only occasionally realising that there might just be a C and D. 

Entangled, forbidden, knowingly acknowledging that we’re defined by sociologically prescribed outlines, we’re suffocating with a smile. We know that we could branch forward, to become something more, something better if desired, yet still slide between the guidelines of how our lives are meant to be. We've an abundance of energy, we've ideals and ideas that could enlighten the air we consume each and every minute, which must be believed despite what we’re told. We’re fed the design of life from the second we speak, from the moment we realise, yet by that point it’s far, far too late. We’re entangled, we’re snared by our very actions to be interweaved into society.

One day, even if for the briefest of moments, we might just escape the entangled web of life.

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