It’s just easier to complain, isn’t it. With all the tasks and things, or the lack thereof, but all that is needed is to not interrupt the flow, of breaking it up again. I feel my eyes glazed and my head disillusioned and stiff, the bags under my eyes weighing down my cheeks and my jaw, pulsing. And all these ways of doing things are subjective assumptions, as they influence our perception of reality. I guess I’m just throwing words onto this lit up space, the words the words the words, contrast between dark and light, shapes, the shape of the word shape, and now I dare analyse it with my brain, to find reason and use meaning, funny one isn’t it. I want to jump out of my eyes, free myself from the barriers of perception leaving learned habits in the dirt. What is out there? Observing the ones that have to come out of themselves, to free themselves but are stuck, observing them drags all the heaviness out of the watcher, becoming aware of the lightness of their cage in comparison, not realising that by doing so they turn back into their safe cave of otherness.