pentagon for stars please.

indiscreetly i carry a heart, still of drying paint buried under my skin, like tinfoil wrapped around the fingers of my right hand, and these eyes; blinded by bits and pieces of sporadic light rays stirred in with that little bit of yesterday-moments, stirred in with that little bit of hope i have entwined in the roots of my tangled hair. so in earnest i take a half-step out of these corners, dancing on my tip toes to the lively melody teasing my parietals, vacillating to the pretentious city lights that are always too overwhelming, much too loud, much too blinding. doing so, i am only bursting my receptors, tracing these secret contours hidden between cracks and spaces i always miss (i've been tripping over them); and suddenly i see them everywhere, in signs patterns painted across static nights. one step, two back and the world stops turning over for all to be solid and quiet once and again.

dear sir! this world is staging the biggest parody in classic greek tragedy, and bigger pictures is often (in classic 'reductionism' style), reduced to a sole opinion, because in a universe of bias, facts do no exist. truth is, a "fact" is merely a statement of truth until it is dismissed by a new hypothesis that better explains a given theory. but! there is no truth. there is no fact; we grapple and think we do but we actually don't. how can you call something the truth when you know there is a chance, no matter how miniscule, of it being wrong? a truth is not temporal. it is everlasting. and since there is no way we can guarantee that anything lasts forever, there is no way of telling what is a truth. hence, everything automatically becomes a lie, an illusion. there is no basis for right or wrong, there is no morality, principle, value - there are no rules. everything is connected to everything else. entire theories and textbooks are build upon singular assumptions. these are dominoes that could crash at any moment. this is the delicate balance that the truths of our universe rests upon.

i woke up this particular morning a little less despondent, a little less assured, a little less confined. sometimes i think my heart is inside my head and i spend the rest of the day convincing myself i'm in the real world, but i can still feel the touch, pulling me back behind my eyelids.