Melting
When I listen to melt I tend to think about the possibilities whereby I'll never get to experience such a sensation...
I tend to think about all the times I really did say I love someone but did they love me. And as much I believe in love.. does love believe in me? It's such a powerful and ethereal experience that may very well trigger an awakening but might turn ephemeral for it is as fragile as an egg as a feather that you'd have to tend to and be careful not to ruffle the softness and pulpness of the pristine white feather for even breathing to hard might make it flutter away and turn elusive forever...
When I think of those times I dared to confess my love.I feel like at those times I needed that out of my chest to cope with other tragic things that I faced growing up. I might have confused simple actions for love due to how deprived my environment left me. I might have adorned numerous masks for different instances and thus I'm left wondering who am I really...
I feel like in the act of trying to survive in such an environment I lost my true self since I resorted to being a master of one and nothing at the same time. And yes it was taxing physically and emotionally and might I even say spiritually for now I set myself on this path to find my true self for my numerous masks limit me and I can therefore not share in that reclusiveness with another due to how I'll habitually act...
Yet if I do search for love do I really love myself. So in pursuit of loving myself I find it nigh impossible. Makes me think of objects that were purely made to deceive and hurt like masks. And maybe in this life... I was and I am a mask that was made.
Funny thing when I think about my true self.Nothing comes to mind and as hard as I may try nothing comes to frustration. For maybe my true self was a black spot a drop of endless black ink that was dropped to be inclusive of everything else. A blank canvas that was made to accomodate everything. An endless cup that was made to hold anything and everything although not that versatile, when I do think of my true self maybe nothing comes to mind because that is what I am...
A nameless boundless concept. For no word can come close to explaining who I am