The actual me.


There is a spiritual vacancy present in this moment, a hunger and thirst for passion, soul, companionship and substance that fails to be pleased. In this moment, hear, lies a deafening frustration and an inconsolable fury of anger a dormant blinding rage, bottled and carried off by oceans of passive aggressive smiles and laughter a fallacy of amusement. Irregular thoughts, ever present abstract desires, and artistic enthusiasm overcast by social constructs and presumptions clouding primal instinctual desires, purpose, trails to paths constructed by mediums of Providence.

In this moment fatigue and an absence of sensation are present and aligned. Energies are inefficient, ineffective or ill placed, an inner turmoil dispersing thoughts from the subconscious to conscious, a dissonance squealing at an intolerable pitch. Dividing host and spirit, each indistinguishable from the other a capricious climate and storm of emotion gripping at the throat of the psyche suffocating clear thought and intention, constricting light of insight and fulfillment, shrouding hope and solace, perhaps for now, a quarter, the guise of the term undisclosed.

Author: Audrey T. Nyamucherera 

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