At times I find myself blungeoning deep down into the abyss of deeply-crested emotions. My self is lost, fully submerging into an array of resounding heartbeats that pierce through the ear canal with as much pitch as the sound of gunshot. As I descend, countless questions bombard my existence, some so easy I could simply hurl them back wherever they came from, some so difficult they nearly crush me with all their weight.
In all the mania of drama, yes, I am in reality, hurt. Tired of the predispositions I have been placed in. For no one knows not what I long for. There exists this consistent battle between the silent heart and the beautiful mind. Sometimes, the heart wins; sometimes, the mind. Sometimes the heart and mind find a way to work together amicably, amidst all battle – and that, I tell you, that is a very funny thing.
Which is so because they have to please the Soul, a wondrous piece of art, mere atoms framed synchronously in position. For the body is to live.
And when this occurs, gallant music orchestrates out from within the Chambers of Life, through the arteries, all the way up to the Pineal Gland, where the Soul sits. His Eyes gaze forbiddingly, as if he had been forced to wait for the answers for too long. His Ears catch the first notes of violin softly humming from far below. Slowly, gradually, the harmony echoes through the empty space of flesh and blood, filling the entire abode of humanity. As if the battle has been won. It has, in its own way.
As for the Body – She triumphs.