cultured lies

bound in relentless fantasy, a little less content, and two steps back. i find myself trudging towards that ever occuring bump. that dam bump in the road that has me running back to hells shelter everytime. everytime im faced with an expectation, even if its one of myself. i freeze. i die. doubt is my worst enemy as of now. and knowing. my brain just expands and these thoughts never end. night upon night i find myself digging away at my sanity, to the other side of this nondescript world. you wont have eyes but youll see. you wont have ears but youll hear every morsle of a sound. this is my brain on drugs. rather my sober brain rotting. yet still, this evolution of knowing is leaving me all the more blind to what i once was. known lies became common knowledge, became trustful truths, became a web of pure fueled fiction. we breed this doctrine and we assume. the voices of question weighed out by the mass of distortion. that army of fables pound the pavement, stomping the weakness of our truth.