On pendulus

These are the moments before something happens. This right now is your future, camouflaged in present. The minutes bleed into each other as the seconds dance and swirl between past and future; they are way too minute to withstand now. 

Time is effervescent in your current predicament. It doesn’t flow, it breathes; not in exhalations and inhalations but in hurricane-like movements. Out of control, seemingly.

Nothing is out of our control.

Nothing is outside of us. 

The world around us is our own construction to the extent that our subconscious impales us with thoughts of disarmament against an unwanted reality. One we cannot escape. That is what we keep repeating over and over and over, until we believe and instil in our fingerprints every lie we’ve ever told. 

The now you’re wasting away is the future you’re unbuilding. One tiny little wrecking ball has replaced the pendulum of thought inside our heads. It destroys as it oscillates. It demolishes hopes instead of walls. It uncreates what it should enlighten. 

We don’t believe in pendulums, and yet they function because of the same force that we do: gravity. We gravitate towards everything that consumes us, controls us, leaves us pendulus (hanging). We gravitate towards the elements we have erroneously believed (in the alarming absence of thought) will elevate us, only to watch ourselves fall inside the same pit. 

Yes, we are allowed to fall. Fall into infinity, until our knees bleed. But never inside the same one twice. 

We’re not supposed to revere it. We’re supposed to learn from it. 

It can’t break free.

You can. 

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