Voices Inside, Outside

 

Two voices live inside my head.

The outside voice, sterilized, a drone; rationally, contextually, culturally surviving life. And the inner voice; sober, veiled and evolving eternally, a passion for a promised life, a different life undelivered.
 A life spaced a space away and above the apparent reality, living in a life of its own. Hidden, enduring this matrix.

The sacrifices and the sorrows find the comfort in addictions and obsessions.
Mute, screaming, turning a blind eye to its existence here. Experiencing through dreams instead, the unleashed imaginations of a contained mind. I hear her through the running thought commentaries. I feel her inside the creases of my stirred beliefs. I release her through the gushing faith that there is something much more than life.
She is obligated to no one but herself. I am obligated to her.

SHe is my rituals with fantasy, my wanted expectations, my unfulfilled visions.
My desire for wishes and my need of wants.
Luring the outside voice with the longing and the craving, the yearning for more of what is unreally Real.
Filling my consciousness with aromatic nostalgia, aspirations, ambitions of a life lived before and forgotten. Terrorized by the virtual pressures, anxieties and stress. Disappointed, unsatisfied, dissatisfied, unfulfilled and thirsty for a mystery that I seek to be closer to.

The aftertastes of worship, ultimate devotion, eternal commitment, the lives long lived full of dedication, care, concern and worry for something or someone I barely remember. I’m begging to exit, she’s begging to be unleashed.
I am but a noise in her mind. She is my comfort from this living that is life.

The others, I smile back at them when I don’t want to. I can’t stop. I am pressured to be alive. I treat everyone nicely.
I am her karma.