Let me burn you down...

I'm getting too old to be paralyzed. But, I am not young enough to revile the slow movement that mental paralysis allows.

I used to be too anxious to ever sit still. The older I've gotten, the more I respect meditation-like thought; that is, thought that moves at its own pace and is not hurried along. I have grown an immeasurable amount inside, but I still balk and fluster when I talk to my father. I still hide when I talk to my mother. I still tell people whatever they want to hear. I am still the epitome of misanthropy.

I feel like my writing was more profound back then, though. I don't know why. Perhaps my ego has regrown as it was before I broke down any walls and was the self-imposed imposition. The clueless megaphone of antithetical advice. The destroyer of worlds.

But I still have the same person inside of me. It's just become much harder to find him, because I have become a ruin on the outside.

--

There's no returning
There's no returning
There is no action
No way to divide

Silence is growing
Silence is growing
Out of refraction
And way out of sight
No clear recalling
No, no clear recalling
There's no reaction
No way back to light

Turn 'round and over
Over and over
Turn 'round and over
My liquid time
My liquid time
Back to the place where you are
A new void

No more returning
No more returning
Feeling no others
But we may be blind
So long a waiting
So long a watching
There must be something moving there in the dark
No fear inside you
No, no fear inside you
No, there's no reaction
No way back to light

Turn 'round and over
Over and over
Turn 'round and over

There's no returning
See, there's no returning
There is no action
No way to divide
Something's approaching
Something's approaching
Ready to strike with every beat of your heart

Turn 'round and over
Over and over
Turn 'round and over

A new void....
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