What is there to say? It feels like no matter what I say or do that I often feel isolated, no further forward. The fire that once stormed in me feels like it fizzled and went out, and now, it feels like nothing. Even my anger now feels hollow, like a mirage of a feeling I'm trying to feel. I say words, but it feels like no-one is listening. I decant my heart out on the page as i fumble about for an audience, and say things deemed oppositional to governmental morality. The fire in my eyes is distant. The soul so affixed in rage, that brewed a thousand fires, nothing but glass. I look to the heavens for answers, but all I see are little beads of light in the dark. The nothingness consuming every relevance, as I keep trying to find a way to make this existence more palatable than my despair.
