‘Insanity broke upon them again…’ -I should have said encroached,or maybye not.

I pause,I know not why,
a stop to ponder ,I dream this way in my waking life – some may say,that is quite insane-to stop for no reason,I mean.

But an empty thought holds many,or
something like that…

…I awake now,I know not where the place I was in is(in time I mean) all I see now is the cell walls ,with the unfinished rough paintwork, the rust on the door, the bars…

– But still this lonlieness keeps me safe somehow, I cannot explain,I wish I knew how to, I wish I
understood the meaning of every action of others,so i could do some good in this world…

…That does seem almost childlike,yet is that not a good way to be?After all,when we reach adulthood,we become so tainted and (in some cases)bitter…

…I wish I could finish this book I’m
writing,truth is,I haven’t even started yet…

…He stared at nothing in particular,trying to ‘see’ his muse,but nothing became clear to his ‘vision’…
…If Art is a lie,then I must not seek the truth!
And so ‘begins’ the writers ‘torment…’


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