/lit/ - Literature

>>22799835
quick conscience drop
First chestnuts then oranges, star spangled auroras clouding my mind with problems I simply wish I didn’t have, but they came again. Not the worst of the season yet I knew they would come to teach me things I thought forgotten, like the heat of my room hitting the windows when it’s cold or the mold hugging the walls, like the landlord special but in black. Every morning when I woke up and looked outside, between the world and my eyes, the condensation, the grime, adorned the frame through which I saw the sky. Alone now, as I was then, thinking about it and remembering, the noble child that despite trembling, caught in the lives and the problems of others, not always blissfuly but stood, alone then as you are now, pure heart untouched by the waste, hysteria manmade and foreign to God’s green earth.

Chestnut and untamed braids to the wind, they forbade me from locking myself in; but my room had a window. Like the fruiting flower that blossoms every season, when I fail another lesson I try to zest the reasons why some memories are so vivid in my mind, and should I give them importance.

Thank God created stone so the mind wouldn’t be our only prison.