Delirium

22 Mar 2011

·frigid

Delirium Recurrent, these dreams. Weary, aching. Monologues devoid of solace, always unanswered. The way these walls, seem to mock my succumbing to, solitude, and the absence of principles. Delirium, a step towards that void, swallowing the ambitious vine, that crawls towards the chalky pocket, of light.

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frigid

"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no...

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