for that there was a meaning significant for a purpose he long cared for, cared with an immense ardor of longing. Trivial hardships ignored now have gained considerations: what was not an asset to any essence he begrudged and discarded and followed and directed more discreet pithy goals. Health lost any reverence and temptations of selfishness were the careers.
I have lost my to mind to the humming and groaning of rotational hypnosis: a grinding of motors pushing relatives of blades around a course with immense passing. tossing the air into currents migrating the odors I left in one chamber to treacherous thought turn turmoil in his physical and thinking mind.
he reaches for a calm in the midst of that shell.
fear and confusion seep through his skin wrapped around his forehead wiped and smeared with him own life, the iron diluted by salt. the mixture brings a regret for his actions on to this own, what was I thinking what was I thinking for what was I thinking to…
a cramp crawled in his stomach causing a wretch, a dry heave. before, just some moments ago, he was convinced that this was what he wanted…this was the out.
it is getting cold
a spasm takes over this lower lip
the breaths shudder over a crying tongue.
he tries to wrap his arms around him and squeeze out the chill. the fingers relaxed, the forearms stiffened away from his fading chest.
the cramp spread reaching the flat side of the flat side of the forearms, more on the left than the right.
the regret greaten.
like a switch set, the calm was found, nothing like a moment to change, nothing like a moment to take action, nothing like gritty drones of smoke to sooth the nerves wrapped tight into the ball of viscous fluid (maybe plasma) rocking in its secure home.