The Disorder Of Self

The disorder of self
Everyday liven down in the burrows and sorrows of suburbia has driven this man to be driven in circles. A mad boredom and dreams of aristocracy silently sought against him in a weather of falsehood and bored imagination sought to find meaning it whats not. Slews of meaningless words thrown around to envision ideals of a better place farther than the boundaries of outlying sidewalks and imaginary fences built around gardens keeping menacing things away. People paired up to dream twice as hard and reach twice as far as ever hoped before. Grown madness sickening the air with boundless fret and ever-growing anticipation of the unknown. Just a few steps away from the halfway point to turn around and give up, walked with hope as if there was ever an end. Finding meaning in the walk of sorrow, bringing a skewed voice of satisfaction in accepting the endless perils too great to accept. Hopelessness breeding an autonomy of hope when fallen so far it is the highs that are low and lows high. Moral satisfaction brought in the god that is the common misunderstanding and brotherhood sought to complete the circle of confusion. Loving those who are dreamers and quitters like the common self helps giving up the fact that there is no end, so if why not quit, than quit hoping to be happy and crush the inner-self sought for self-preservation? This dream brought mysteriously and thoughts lay on a field so easy to play that there are no rules. Suppression breeds violence like suppression of violence, and the circle continues. The average middle child thrown into a madness of confusion and trouble to speak his voice clearly to repent parents shame put on themselves. A stepping-stone of wishes, an undergarment of confusion, a tornado of torment and masochistic wishes omitted only to withdraw part of the sorrow burying all daily lives. A need to be human, or human like only a human would call itself, and understanding the transverse thinking of thinking forward in time and time is a thought. The sudden realization that it is real, or not real, and there was no realization, so there was confusion yet no confusion, only a thought, still a thought of the envisioned madness of what a thought is. Pure rejection of all that is misunderstood to understand, and be sane to ignore and accept what everyone cannot accept. Ordered confusion so as not to be confused and too many substances to break the perfect chain of thought and disturbances in the background of reality. Purely growing older and more abstract. Minds disintegrating into mindless society and societal ways. Disintegration of all until we are free and confused again with abstract spirits, or maybe just explanations to what it is when were not to satisfy the simple-minded losses of hope standing around to breed more disorder when they thought everything was done right. Insane is the only way to live or else wed all be dead from boredom and disorder wrought from within boredom. Just another way to live and see the present past and future and confusion slain through the fabric of reality and bending of time and other fantastical wishes. A short sentence to show that this is the end of the paper.

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