identified clashes.

a haunting feeling of losing control while choking on the very emotion that threads through my veins and helps create the beat for my heart becomes an ironic disaster. the clashing of words and actions; the music of the lonely and the dead mingle with the verses of those that can't remember how to breathe -- this becomes the movie script, the opening credits followed by the end with no middle identity. if we live to forgive and forget, where does real pain reside? manifesting and growing into the breaking of the contract that contrasts with the place where everyone can release their memories. reading how you are supposed to act and actually following through with the plan are two separate aspects that i can't always grasp because the nightmares are far too real to be excused. i fumble along, allotting time to take its toll on the mind that contains the secrets of the skeletons that don't speak... but play on your happiness until there's nothing left.