Verständnis

The never ending stream of words I do not know, shall never seem to be an end within me. So I thumb through the pages looking for clarity, but am never able to fulfill the vast vagueness that clouds and crowds my daily strife. The words bring power, which is not without satisfaction, and satisfaction yields far greater emotions, however entangled they may be with moral conundrums. Finding reason seems to be as futile as searching for center, or perhaps they are just one in the same. Never being able to understand one another is the darkest cosmic joke, or better yet punishment handed down from nature whom could only be tired of the perpetual rape of it’s resources. And with every finite breath I take, I can not help but feel gratitude that my mind has not yet begun to consciously count them down. Could trust only have formed by happenstance? Every word needs an antonym. Cosmetic complements, which conceal jealousy and fear, give the air with which they are spoken the same consistency of a muddy riverbank.