Fight Club – Clearing up the Steam

For years, I had been walking- stumbling, hands in front of my face, hiding my own eyes. Blind not by genes, but by being. Creating my own scenes of confusion, bringing nothing true to the table. Teasing the mind with nothing but sparks of desillusions.

Until it hit me. Full force, following the fury of flowing information, from one source to another. Not only could I see the future, but also, finally, act on it.

One, two, one, two, every click representing sometimes a couple, and others, hundreds of hours of my life. But that statement in itself is false, because the hours they represented are memories, and no emotions are ever present in non-living physical things.

Only in ourselves.

It may seem silly, but it’s something we often forget.

One, two, one, two, a smile drew on my face, not mistaking hours of work, with hours of escaping reality. A sense of calmness settled. A smell of success, feeble, appeared. Its source is far away, but it will never be too late to chase it.

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