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Philosophy
July 2009 
A Shadow Born of Hope and Fear
Posted on Oct 25th, 2007
by 
DuALiTySTrUgGle
DuALiTySTrUgGle
Egoic struggles to hide from the openness pervading this self, these attempts to deceive myself paralyze me with choices in genuine interest and compel retreat into a form of which I have grown weary. Its ends reside in ignorance, a lie ever so hard to resist. Every time I notice a feeling of being beyond this it transmutes into a trick and casuistry, submerging me in a dark emptiness of inertia. It overbears me in numbness, so I cannot be overcome.
You are an elusive cipher, yet the power of your touch is beyond substance, a reach far from vacant. Any sense of wisdom turns to façade in your presence, wilting into cold and bitter comforts. I look for you only to find myself looking through you. Like an illusionist, you surround me with phantasm, familiar mirages I recognize and acknowledge only after swallowing sand. I am transparent to you, so you disorient me with a fragrant trail toward glowing auras surrounding forms built of ash.
I render you impotent with my lullabies, whispers your attention dares not hear as you fall asleep amidst wakefulness. Depths of the unknown are useless to my pleasures. I mold and command you with tapestries of habit, substantiating gratifying dreams from your subtle hopes of endurance and significance. My strings are unbreakable because you are the source of my skills as the puppeteer.
You are an elusive cipher, yet the power of your touch is beyond substance, a reach far from vacant. Any sense of wisdom turns to façade in your presence, wilting into cold and bitter comforts. I look for you only to find myself looking through you. Like an illusionist, you surround me with phantasm, familiar mirages I recognize and acknowledge only after swallowing sand. I am transparent to you, so you disorient me with a fragrant trail toward glowing auras surrounding forms built of ash.
I render you impotent with my lullabies, whispers your attention dares not hear as you fall asleep amidst wakefulness. Depths of the unknown are useless to my pleasures. I mold and command you with tapestries of habit, substantiating gratifying dreams from your subtle hopes of endurance and significance. My strings are unbreakable because you are the source of my skills as the puppeteer.
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