I thrive in chaos

I thrive in chaos. I thrive in un-peace. I thrive in the things that make the heart jump and the stomach swirl. I thrive in the silent screams of a structured room. I thrive in the elegance of being on the fringe of my tepid gloom. I thrive in danger. I thrive in discomfort. I thrive in the subtle motions of blood pouring out of the sensitive cavities.

I thrive in vomit. I thrive in disgust. I thrive in angst and the nuanced pain of the fucking of the heart. I crave cold when it’s hot. But when it’s frigid, I wish I burn. I thrive in illegal. I thrive in gore. I thrive in dying but not death. I thrive in youth but not innocence.

I thrive in freedom. I thrive in chaos. I thrive in knowing the unknowability of the unknown. I thrive in the cognizance of my being alive, and that my days are spent not according to other people’s “should”.

I thrive in my untamed head. It sure is exhausting but everything has its price. I thrive in knowing I’m free. And that even though my body may not totally experience freedom at its absolute, my thoughts do.

I thrive in knowing that my happiness isn’t contingent on anyone’s nodding head. Or the artificial constructions and design of the collective.

I thrive in feeling that the heart wants to cave in.

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