V.2 Unhappiness Is An Invention, (is it?)

                               "Like a painting of a sorrow, 

A face without a heart."

                                                                   -Wilde

I listened closely to the echo in my head, the familiar cosy voice from the root of the heart, and sometimes I think to myself things I never dare to imagine. Tonight I set myself free from the determination, the struggle to seek closure, the belief of humanity which once exists, I let go, given up but look beneath the surface. We were born innocent, but we can never preserve naivete. As reality unlocks the chastity of an infant mind, perspectives will never be the same as ever before. We see everything we want to see, but we can choose whether to believe.