actually nice

Shelters, constructed by your shattered self, just to have some rest from the noise, people talking, arguing and loving you. You don´t want them to get to you, they do you exhausted and tired. Inside your shelters you keep on talking to yourself , building a world of your own where it´s easy to keep control, and where all the struggles have happy endings, in your favourite life of lost hope the days go by and all the evil powers are actually nice, and yourself was a successful artist from the very beginning of the end, because this is the end.
When all is settled you just don´t need anything, there is nothing, your life has become echoes and you don´t need anything at all, you just slowly fade away...
A gain of failure and adversity.


Young blogmate wrote: "There is a leak in my hope". I love the allegory, it´s graphic, that´s what it´s all about, and it becomes empty in the end, from having lost it´s content all through the years. The hollowness spread in your system of red and blue lines and thread, it flows upon your eyes, your lips and your hands, you become totally eaten up by the vicious and empty balloon of hope. Yes.
Now and then you go outside trying to catch up with life and gather new hopes and wishes, only to find yourself stumbling into the bulb of hollowness again, ´cause it feels safe and warm and calm, and noone bothers you there.
Did lack of hope do all that?
I can imagine people sink themselves in big temperated pools, looking for bubbles of leaking hopes. Nice, miss JMM, as are a great part of the thoughts you write about in your blog. Hope may be lost in process ... but we´re still around, aren´t we.
(inspired by JMM and TR´s echoplex)