Of confusion, destiny, illusions, and sounds.

Sounds are the integral system of confusion.
Fearing the cacophony, the jingles of confusion are born.

Noises from the vocals of a reason ravaged generation. That is it that is so different from the lonely hobos of the yesteryears as opposed to their counterparts today. They sing in the same alleys, similar songs. Of love, riches, roofs and subway tickets.

Is Mr Sen correct in describing the illusions of destiny in a 198 paged book? Rather simplistic I feel. But probably not.
What I feel is ignorance is also the flip side of the beatific illusion called destiny.
I am inspired by Mr Sen.

So how is it that I aspire to relate sound, confusion and destiny?
Its rater simply depends on the following of the colours.
Dolphins and glassy water.
Scarlet windows beaconing me to climb a little lower into the water and attempt to touch the skies way below.
Not the reflections of the northern clouds but the reality of such illusions.

Thus comes the tap on the big doors of destiny fixed into contorted shapes…
Contorted shapes….
Confusing shapes…

Now that is where it struck me that these shapes were way too busy with vivid sounds to care for the reason ravaged voices.
Fear of the cacophony binds the strings of paralysis.

Waves crashed onto the brown rocks wearing the crowns of a thousand rich kings.
I stood on the realm of this kingdom.
Intoxicated, floating on the noises, confused, dazed, like a poor song, sung on the galleries of to few, attacked my the misers of the deaf.

The only connection between the noises that gave me this illusion of a confused destiny was a lyric. Which one, I forget. But it was lucid, mercury, and a silence of green eyes.

Orange windows and ice showers.
Ice mints in my mouth.
Ice mints in my mind.
Ice - ice - ice

I’m sweating snow!