Living in a fantasy is preferred reading for one's mind... safety, security, certainty, all the elements aligned in a time that reflects Utopia. Fantasies are safe and warm, but remarkably difficult to maintain... when the glass shatters, all of those tiny slivers bury deep, cutting you ten times over. It becomes more difficult than the situation you were trying to escape in many ways... so desperately running to the greener pasture. Worlds unwind and the walls crumble to ash... left wallowing in the muck and mire of shattered glass and viscera. It will never come to fruition... Maynard stated it best, "Life feeds on life- This is necessary...". The time has come to remove the slivers and lick my wounds... how many times is this now for you?
Below is another T.O.D. entry. I will give you a little preemptive insight forehand this time around. The title suggests this is written about the Holocaust... that couldn't be more wrong. I have no desire to get into such debates at this current time, but that most certainly isn't the subject matter. Dive into the rabbit hole and have a glass of tea, Alice... we have cakes and biscuits aplenty.
"Auschwitz"
Frosted dreams gone away,
Left here to die.
Sometimes I wonder whether this is real,
Or fantasy...
A hand once cold, warm from the sting of fire-
It's only my ashes...
Falling on your forehead.
-(An excerpt from T.O.D.)
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