Stream of Consciousness
A Place the Mind Forgets
I woke in the hallway of nowhere— walls pulsing with light, as if memory had been replaced with color. No doors. No turns. Just the endless stretch of thought, painted in hues too bright to trust. My footsteps didn’t echo— sound had been silenced sometime after truth was banned, and before dreams were taxed. I think I used to be someone. Someone with questions, someone who listened to the strange things people saw when the world was asleep. But now— even the night is under surveillance. They cauterized dreaming to stop rebellion. Peace, they said, is the absence of resistance. But I remember when quiet meant safety, not control. There’s something behind this light. I feel it hum, like a forgotten name scratching the edges of my skull. If I walk far enough, will I find the version of me that still believes in escape?
By Carolina Borges2 years ago in Poets
Yes, Humanity Needs Saving
I think sometimes we spend our lives searching for things, for answers, that we may never know the answers too. There are a lot of great thinkers who never knew if they were right or way off on their predictions. Think about that. Think about how so many things that we know now about the world and universe and everything around us--some of the most historical figures, even, never knew all of the answers. They died without knowing. I often wonder in times like these if people want to continue that trend, or take a new path, a new way, a greater way.
By Slgtlyscatt3red2 years ago in Poets
