Good, Gone.

We’re prisoners. Prisoners to routine, to society, to the lack of capable comprehension in our minds. Routine, different setting but same events, same repetition of saying and feelings. Where has the good gone?

In my drawer rests a bottle of liquid used to tame a wild beast. Pin straight, curly Q, waves on a beach, tamed. But other bottles, do they intend to break the beast out into a place where prison no longer exists? To release to the animals the aura of positivity, that is when prison does not exist. That is when it is released, when we as prisoners are released, when the comprehension of the mind reaches all horizon of certainty, with the idea of uncertainty and negativity dismissed into the inner abyss.

The good has gone from lack of creativity and intelligence. Lost through societal trends and mishaps, lost through obsessions of what does not really matter. Promote love, banish what you hate. Rather freedom than submission and darkness. Leave me here, left alone, to meditate on the unknown. To embrace the future, live the present, learn the past, be a prisoner to breaking out of this cell and creating a comprehension-able life to reject repetition and to finally find the good.