It was mesmerizing. I can tell you that. The way Darkness was inhaling me was mesmerizing. I counted seven stars on the sky, a few humans around and the speed of the cars racing; infinite; at least in my mind. In reality, there was just a soul beside me, humidity in the air and a few cars running sixty miles per hour. But I did not want to see the reality because my surreal dream was so absorbing.
I went back to it and I began rambling again while staring at the spark of the lamp post.
We conversed about the mediocrity of the human soul; me and the universe. I had a soul beside me listening but my mindset was elsewhere. I was imagining myself on an untidy bed, a soul losing its’ mind into my eyes, between my legs.
Devouring a soul and lifting it up to the defining line of the universe it’s the most exquisite gift a human can receive. Keeping it on the ground, sane and steady, can cause the syndrome of mediocrity. Judging the corruption of the soul would be a great mistake if you do so gentlemen. Define happiness if you can though and you will understand what I am mumbling about.
Perhaps you’re not interested in my definition of it but I am free to state it anyway.
Devouring happiness: the liberty of the soul to collude with the walls of dispair while reflecting itself into the depth of a moment’s realisation.
The eyes, love. The eyes. Lose yourself into the mournful excitement of those eyes.
Mediocrity. Lose it. Give it up. Chase your soul to the end of the world. Do not keep your greatness intact.
Ruin yourself, stay still and feel the adrenaline of your blood. Now you’re not mediocre anymore.
But, can you do that?