I am propped up by caffeine and guarana. A scarecrow of stimulants. I am vibrancy manifest to the untrained eye.
But inside, the onset of age-fatigue races my puppet discipline. I fight my physiology every morning, bare-handed. I am reminded of my mortality and encroaching obsolescence by the murmurs of breeze and shouts of sunlight. I hold my head up under the gaze of outsiders. But it droops under the exhaustion of inevitability when no one is looking.
I can feel my margin for fanciful errors shrinking by the hours. The pleasant mistakes of youth, drawn through with a bright red "X". Irretrievable without the paying the cost of limbs.
I sprint after mastery of youth under cerulean skies, only to fall and skin my knees to the bone.
7:59 p.m. - 2014-06-14
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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