The beauty about madness
is the realization
that every rose have thorns
and every pain has comfort
of some sort.
The realization that every
sadness brings healing of
some sort.
Nothing is routine.
There’s no such thing as
reality or time
or manifestation of
collective consciousness
of sounds carried throughout
past lives that has shaped us
into what we are today,
There’s no such thing as as
only limitations of our lives
manifested in the now.
As sleep is the reincarnation
of tomorrow we renew ourselves
each day. Change is already constant,
just like emotions
and intentions ,
There’s no such thing as “true” consistency
Why would perfection find love in its
What was the lesson brought by being imperfect?
What makes someone fall in love with flaws?
What intrigues the mind into believing that
beauty lies within madness?
The concept of creation is the start of time
Time is history
and what you do previously is just history within the next.
Hold onto your consciousness
understand that this is
the Beauty Within The Madness



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