By Pedro Guerra 

Years.

Attempting to grab hold, make sense, endless variations of plans turn failure.

Arguing.

Rational and logical, deconstruction of every thought, feeling, and memory.

Years of contests against the Devils.

I lose every time.

Violence rises as the voice that is me tells me I’m wrong, and the voice that is me tells me I’m right.

Years.

Trying to win over Neuro Chemistry is a poor sport.

Think long enough, feel enough, repeat yourself enough, and reach feebleness, senility, and exhaustion.

You don’t fight the current, it will only make you tired.

Chaos is True Freedom.

No more illusion of control, difficult to keep order when Chaos is Law.

Control a momentary comfort when coincidence supersedes chaos.
The rest of the time control is a shackle, a law you must hold up, a delusion that extinct all who chase it.

Acknowledging Chaos.
No more surprises, no more rigid patterns of thinking. The endorsement of chaos centers you, no more loop, you are no longer running.

You are watching.