Nos sunt infinitae.

Sometimes I live a world silent
Just the sound of my breath, solitary
My face, dead, and body, still
Lack of meaning and purpose
For a second I become inanimate, still, lost.
With a billion I am surrounded, but with nothing, am I filled.

The silent world, it's difficult to understand when you're blinded by bodies,
But when those bodies blend into one, is when one shall realise the true destiny of our souls.
Bound by silence, bound by solitude, bound by brightness.
The lone soul has it's own agenda, one that doesn't concern others, but instead basks in it's own learning and knowledge.
Something that allows us to put ourselves into the places of others, to mimick; but never actually become. Never replace, for that a fatal mistake, we are once always indebted to make.
But once learnt is a journey been and gone, for some.
It's something we must learn to take on, and something we must learn from.
To atleast prepare ourselves, for the bigger journey to come.

"You're such strange teenager, I don't understand you"
Thanks very fucking much