…and tiny electrical impulses, almost too weak to measure, are finding new paths, new combinations, exploring new possibilities as the days linger on. Synapses, the cerebral highways of thought – the very core of our inner being, if you will… how marvelous they are, how frightful they are… They make us and they break us. They are the creators of timeless literature, poetry, symphonies, they are able to create that which is only limited to our own imagination and create bonds between living things words only can not describe. Yet they hold the power to deceive us, play vicious games with our minds and create patterns of thought like monsters, eating their way through our sacred sanity.
As such they made me a shadow of my own existence. I became the gravel of my own mountain, the fading echo of a word of love, I was the silent whisper of a scream of joy. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in the rain. It’s time to die… so I can live again. Today everything has a new meaning. Today I am here. Today, I am… and I’m here to stay.