I'm terrible with words because they rack my brain until I am sure I'm insane, but once my brain is free I can never feel this way or ever be this sane. I'll write you a story because words aren't anything without a purpose.
Pop a piece of gum. Breathe it out slowly. “It will be O.K.” Cheery, mood-lifting flowers ignite the breath and invigorate my senses. He always seems to take a few deep with nature in which we find the instant surge in webbed areas. He chuckles lightly under his breath "when you’re feeling frazzled, release an ax to grind." He increases his eyes lower to a number, companions suggest functioning from their hormones, but he doesn't want to. Put your own problems in the head, they teach. Relievers reading for the instant anxiety increased our strain. "You feel even more panicked stepping outside?" He choked. He held my hand in his "Shake out an orange from beneath your thumb."he whispered into my ear sending chills up my arms. "Enough said" I grumbled as I took a step back. Our conversation ended as he stormed into the dark abyss.
Special compounds overwhelm the quality of my calm combat within my soul. Spirits get up from the desks and curtails cry out within my blood pressure. That time wasted mentioning, distancing, yourself wants to feel close yet lowering jacks but who cares? With a drop dial gently stretched through a series of death in reduction where we often store the warm tub of our feelings. My tears creep through the soothing situations which will bring up guided imagery of my rejuvenated surroundings.
Calming breaths of peppermint cut through my pressure points as I close my eyes loosen the jaw and in an instant I take a jump falling for 20 to 30 seconds counting down the time plug my thoughts away and enjoy the soothing bubbles of death that begin to wash over me. I see a light; a calming candlelight that begins to edge into the corners of my vision. My eyes blur and the chemicals in the brain begin to soothe and become slow-paced. My environment makes me lose myself and I feel free. The wind distracts my mind, my troubles seem to dissipate quickly and violently just like my body does as I hit the ground, or how I imagine it will . Every part of me stretches. My muscles relax, my heart rate instantly lowers and tension seems to have never existed. Death seemed to have creeped into our minds and poison our souls. Is death really our purpose, our life and fears? This world is a purpose of reality or a charade of our imaginations of what we once were or what we will never become. Only one true way to find the truth is to really find it.
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