Nathan Pex - vile, hence

Excerpt: Coming to some terms with recent history and the unknown beyond ---- Your 20s have gone by in a flash. How many millions of questions have echoed through your soul, & many of which still have no answer? How many more things could you juggle to make life worthwhile (and distracted)? How do you beat the cynicism gained & rooted from the grim realities that we live in? Time marches on while you ask, while you answer & still continue to ponder. Your every cherishable moment & dimmest hours stack up. You at least realize you should make each of them last. Yes. Even the darkness could pave the way for light. You ask time and time again. Is destruction really necessary for creation? Your memories alter with every millisecond that moves unforgivingly fast. The brain could only approximate what has come to pass. So I write & write & write. To preserve my locket of hollow. To scribe & etch onto history something gripping, be it a star bursting happiness or an abyssal misery or even… just for proof of a cranium malfunction and some evidence of human connection. It's sentimental. Actually, rationally speaking, all of this is quite futile, but this expression could live on & on for eons beyond extinction. Who knows if it'll help you the way it helped me. I hope it does! Oh, because it really does heal me. My words, our minds, the angles, the world that's in shambles—it's all so very all over the place, but... Through art I could answer some of my own questions and open up doors to generate many more. How many more? Why more? What other questions are there to ask? On to what next task as time ticks & tacks? My 20s are now a thing of the past. ------