the luxury of loneliness

so there is an emptiness of space and abundance of thoughts flowing on constant mood swings there are no words too many words too many bad connections and good connotations there is past and future never present oh what a desert there are only lonely dinners breakfasts lunches and suppers there are as many signals as one can master mustering up courage to all invisible tasks that meant to lead somewhere yet in the end they led exactly nowhere like an express train crashing into lights and moods there are seam strips from torn jeans and t-shirts remembering decades when we were still young and pretty strips of fabric worn out too fast to count them all in this perpetual stream of thoughts whispers of yet undiscovered worlds