As if connections are hardly seamless,they always fluctuate,connect-disconnect-Not properly connect.Different state of connected,trying to connect to again and again vividly by many means,drawing solace by hearing persistently that nothing is perfect and imperfection to an extent is acceptable/genuine ,but what point and purpose in those extant of disconnect drawing in extreme other direction of connected.
Points and purpose are meaningless, content in greedy striving ,where most accepting significance in what is perennially going on,devolved on them by eternity and no effort dreams to see beyond them,yet/but when suddenly with different breeze one gets glimpse from some open eye/mind and hurriedly get exposed to coldness of desolation ever pervading.
Life is spent/passed swallowing lie after lie ,in beliefs,in efforts,results,interpretations and mirage of that euphoria that will calm senses as if they reside in their natural habitat,where they secretes that smell wafted /engulfed in ones surrounding of as if that perfect state.
What had been it like ,as if just continued wasting in utilizing time,in finding newer and newer means of escape,so that hope remains alive for further and further escapes, to face the disconnect from very base from very being.
Realizing that disconnect ,and that nothing is perfect that decisive dawned to propel meaning that there are hardly points of purpose so gleaming to establish lasting connections from that origin that lies in only contemplation,thereby generating vast divergent realm to connect .