lost . trial . end

here i sit my head on the connection. hearing a voice known, but a couple of light years ago. i tried with [trials], and back got back somethings.

the self smudged in the presence, and i left some marks for sure, always unsure, always wanting more.

i stole for want, and moved to understand. obscurity moved from noun to a verb. so many things i would have done, but clouds got in the way. as every fairy tale, i saw the light, but never found the right cue, always standing by the side, illusions i recalled, never knowing any feeling at all. reasons came, and i fought with them, acted strange with friends. they shook their heads, but never told me i had changed.

could i move away from these games with the self, of the strangeness of being watched. i hope i would in my mind one day be able to put meaning to some thoughts, that flash and float around, in fear of being recognized. to be able to come to terms with the mush around and within, without guilt.

i've tried to move away from the presence before, and failed, for reasons mine or not. maybe i am trying again. but i have no reasons to. there are no faults, no arguments.

but what does one do, to escape a shadow so strong, so as to blur the self into it. where all connections you make, end not into you, but into the perceived other. always into the legend.