I find that I’m so paranoid at the thought of being trapped in my own mind and it’s the reason I adore the feeling of blood rushing through my veins as I lift off the ground–
acres of bodies pulsing centimeters away,
flashing lights and starry eyes gazing nowhere
a sense of intimacy I can only find in the vast seas
where I wander from myself,
I am content to be among a crowd of the lost and searching
as I scream my stomach and lungs dry to the bone.
the clock hits 12:01 and I never find myself with any regret or remorse until we’re at twelve once again,
and by then I will only fall to a circle.
Literally every part of this post was inspired by The Great Gatsby.