Encapsulated (ARTICLES)

I told you, bear with my thoughts. For my thoughts are not my words, and my words are just finely-refined thoughts.

I told you, beware of my mind. Because it has no limits, and has no end.  Let’s just say, even when I die, my mind will survive, to prolong itself into the vastness of  space.  I hate to think, oh yes, I do. My brains are pumping, I can’t stop it.  I close my eyes, and shut the lights, but my head keeps thumping……thumping….thumping….. to the depths of space which is the pillow under my head.

I just want to take a rest.  But only death can provide me rest. Yes, this world is cruel. It demands the body some parts of strength. That can no longer come back after it is used up. It demands some parts of the brain to get used up and never to be returned after the brainchild is born.

Oh!!!! I’m fed up, I’m fed up!!!! Let me loose!  The used-up body and the used-up brain never enriched me anyway. Instead, they were gifted to young minds, willing to fill their bodies and their brains with my strength and wisdom while my soul is shattered.

To die is to rest, to sleep is to  fake rest. Because by then I have to wake up, to another mind-breaking game.