legends | convicted

We're simply intoxicated by our brains' erupting poison. There's thick clouds swirling like the elixir of corruptive malignancy, governing our every move, regulating them from past to future, while winding through our effortlessly dying souls. Yet we obey, almost fully aware that this isn't our choice of action. These days, our eyes will disguise dirt on purpose.

It keeps our strengths darkened and exposes our weaknesses so we are vulnerable... even to the naked eye. We allow this to happen in hope of acceptance, but wouldn't dare admit it.

Consumed by our accessibility to judgment, we have no choice than to allow the criticism to sink in, and spread throughout our already-abundant thoughts like that of a sponge, soaking up water. The irony is impenetrable; to this day, we will still ponder why someone else's opinion matters so much in general, but when we were children, no one could outshine us -- even if they did, we didn't notice.

Society's attempting conjecture is incomplete and leaves us on the edge of the seat, armed and ready to attack its words. No matter the absolute preposterous attempts to beat ourself at our own game, it remains impossible to loose. Really, who are we to compare our own beauty to someone else's?

We're wearied by our own self-loathing and desperation to become the astray puzzle piece that's lost and forgotten. In the midst, the puzzle lay unfinished, a waste of time, since the beginning.

Misery echoes through our minds continuously with every beat of our worn-down hearts. I wouldn't expect any other outcome; the bodies we live in are prison grounds. You question my theory, but can't help to wonder where cells and rib cages got their names: we are just criminals, vandalizing ourselves.

- Happily Ever After.