Delightful Mixture.

Mama once told me to do what my heart says it's right. Heart says many things which is not to my liking, yet some to my loving. There is no in-between when it comes to the heart. It's either full out, or so in. So I venture in the mixture of this delicacy. A collection of blurred reasoning, scripted speeches and plain drama. All with the intention to rebel. This mixture, it doesn't froth and bubble like a burning cauldron, nor does it contain any essence of despicable body parts. It is simply, to put it in the simplest most graphically illusion-possible way, earth returning from the earth. It is like when you scoop a fistful of air out of the atmosphere, and swallow it down. You don't see any of it, but it happened. It happened because there was believe. I'm me because I am believing, in fact, I even lived. It comes down to this then; the creation returning to what was previously created. The earth flowing back to itself, willingly. The transfer of collected memories from the soul to the nothing. As nothing was the beginning, so shall the end be nothing. Whatever happened in the moment of 'through' doesn't really count, for the end is all that counts. The end of collected droplets of hidden pleasure, open joy and translucent dreams. Perhaps one may think, when will delight be in this picture? Experiencing delight is a choice. I chose mine, as we chose ours, as the earth chose the earth's. It is yet, the mixture that matters. Where will emotions be? Hiding in some hole in the brain, some hole in the heart. Hiding to avoid partaking in this hideously beautiful act. Act 1, Fin.