i._d.a.r.e._s.a.y.
A light shade of pure vividness of red, half-shut eyes, piercing through the tiny holes in the wall. Traumatized. Muzzled. Nauseated. Pale of the face, like the wake of the mortuary. Reluctant to inhale, afraid of contamination. Emerald green on one side, distinctive yellow blended in on another. A fragile outer layer portecting the filtered of a substance, so define, so impressive with its purpose. Like the safety net on anyone’s death bed, pacifying the danger of weakened soul. It dilutes, it vanishes into effect. Open the jaded eyes to a sighted dimension. Giving space to venture, space to breath. How else should the level of tolerance be? Zealous alike to a new identity, unknown to the Id, the Ego, and the Self. Suppressing any indication of hostility and unstoppable determination. Awe inspiring with the simple nature of a human born, so obedient, shallow expressive. Will the mind takes the command? Will the soul follows the pattern? Will the body breaks to the needed stances? Indeed, the little of it shapes the greatness of a person’s settled character. It clears the blur. It takes over the unwanted. Creature of allegory seeks the reality. It terminates the existing. A dependecy of selective-serotonin reuptake inhibitor, a cry for help, a reason to sedate.
*My little piece of dark-sided writing with the after thought of Prozan Nation. Damn! That movie just get into my head unconsciously.*
