Bike Ride Babbles

Silence has an amusing way of entertaining hushed thoughts and feelings… at times even to the point of provoking them to light. Almost like a surreal surface of warfare where closure and curious greed collide and burst. Even in the hustle and bustle of everyday common life… in the intimate hours of your comatose state… there’s a hushed lull that corrodes at your very being. It’s not always a question of why and how… more so the wonderment of who. Sometimes I reflect on the matters of the “who” or the “what” and inevitably wonder why I find a hollow emptiness within. Is it the people and/or person that my very core aches for or is it the time and place where feelings meshed into the memories that I consequently miss. In all its abstract ways…it's an unsettling perplexity of nonchalant bullshit. Vivacious hopes fade just as swiftly as a comment or remark alters your feelings or views directed towards a person, place or thing. In all honesty… we're our own epitome of human intellect and destined flaws. We hope, we love, we grieve, we covet, we fear, we over analyze, we inquire, we discover, we hate, we shy away, we resist, we forgive, we are indeed the most perfect imperfection amongst the fickle yet divinely constant life forms here. In a world where literally anything is possibly possible... we are ultimately small and tiny.... the prospect of the potential possibility of a chance becomes our undoing. We have moved so far away from what the humans were designed for. Power comes to the person who cares less... blaze attempts of psychological games of delayed replies via texts are far from rare. Cheers to detached and impersonal forms of interaction. Spectrums of similar appearances as to being carefree and indifference take way… either because there’s lack of care or conscious efforts to conceal true depth. Fuck deciphering the later of the two. So the question arises once more… is it the “who” or the “what.” Then again, it may very well be the you of I in your steadfast life.

Grooves yo.