Chapter 2: 1.

Sea shells bound to be, constricted pavements of gravel and sand all over the shallow bittersweet-salty waters, it's was smeared with turbulence and districts past the waters, lights can be seen through the dazzling city nights, they were miles away yet when i look at then they all seemed so near, for some time I've been going near the sea walls. Crooked and stiff. Warm it is sometimes but mostly the cold ground feeds me with its undivided attention of divine mercy. The bliss of the lights from overseas left me wondering, when, where, why. Everyday there was, every now and then. I'll sit at the top of the sea walls, let the winds crash over my chalk board body. It was a rebellious idea to scream at the top of my lungs, pretending I'm to be a mariner waving goodbye to the townsmen of these lowlife country side. The sounds of the glorified fishermen's grunts, pants and screams of distress as their boats are sinking. Something about distress makes me enjoy chaos so much. Maybe that's the reason why I haven't been able to leave this town. I've always wanted to fly away. Move to the cities, or maybe away from the mountains i grew up with. It was a niche dream for a niche child. Dazzling over the graze of the niche green exploitation of brass grass expected for a countryside. Hard headed accent with piercing tones of regrets and retailed witchcraft. Life was easy within the boundaries of the gallery of white soft permeable slime within the sea walls. I've always played with them since I was a kid. Days passed, as the rays of the sun's magnitude shifted to blue and green, sunset reasons for the forbidden god's and goddesses. The shallow overboard Titanic waters were nothing. One time, the wind's chaser bevelled me with it's wave like sounds. Sirens going through - in and out of the cold blooded dirt. I remember the times when I use to see childrens playing childish tricks within the angel coves. It's still imprinted into my flower mind. Acid like vertigo came, with memories distorted and such things be twisted. Dandelion and fall trees was all an image created by me. The leaves frowning, desperately gracing the home bound of the sea walls. The nightstand ropes in the middle of nowhere stood tall within the nightshades. Between polls of which I'll climb relentlessly and imagine being at the top of the world just like in the movies. I've read lots of tales and heard lots of words of mouth there too. I even heard the planning of someone's killing that time yet I remained silent. Bells to be bless there souls from then on I can hear her soul as clear as day. Bells, bless her soul. Deep rooted rivers over the candle flames. Five o'clock when I gone home. It was a recycled thought over and over within a deep dive of copycat's dreams. I'm a liar. I've been one since I was born. Everything I have is a lie. The sound of everything is a lie. It was a symphonic night. With lots of gradient Delilah. Delusional melodion former chimera lights, tall and brown. Their shadows are always there, oh, how much of the circus have we bought already. How much of the freakshow have we witnessed?. Do we own the Meshes of the Afternoon now?. Such delirious fever dreams I had. A war perhaps I've been hearing about it lately. All my neighbors and friends had been moving out of town these days. Because of the war. But my father said