I have been studying life, death, and anatomy for years. I am only 19 and do not believe in perfection. I believe in imperfection. I have seen the beauty of complications and the infinite ego ravaging through time. I believe in color and the freedom of mortality.
When I was 16 I realized symmetry conveys, but disproportion creates concepts. And there ended my fascination and infatuation with a forged perfection I had meticulously tended to my entire life. As I neared 18 years of life, head on and stretched so thin you could see through me, I entered survival/revival trip. It was odd to think I could live and create. To have darkness as a shadow and not a heavy coat. I realized the potential of the mind is inescapable and so are the lack of limitations on consciousness itself.
I believe survival mode is not an option but a gene. A gene so heavy some would rather run than face this existence. As much as I understand, I have forgotten what it feels like to not appreciate every sway of my lungs. The run and rest of my solid heartbeat. And what a beautiful thing, a knowledge of life and death. The coexistence of alienated emotions and futile war words are still sitting among me. The battlefield may always be where I call home, but the silence after the fire is what I crave. And the stars that seep their iridescent fingers into the night sky, breaking the haze of smoke, breaking the daze of man. To say I have arrived. And I lived and died doing so.
I am SpineBlue. Welcome to my universe.
You are accepted here. Self-respect and respect of others are the only rules here.
More info: SpineBlue.com
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