Ive been fighting celestial entities in my sleep.

Angels and demons moving faster then light with supposed quintessence. Which is funny to me as i match there speed these beings look like burning two dimensional paper drawlings that tore themselves from some half remembered chapter on some long ago dusted tombs pages.

I often wondered perhaps arrogantly if they somehow were representations of archetypal philosophies I grandiosely built within to consistently contend and battle with for the thrill of it. Yet here I am.

Awake with another survived experience of a warzone in my head shrugging my shoulders with a laugh at my self reflections. Wondering why, after apparently proving being equal to gods , we keep insisting on being creators of a pathological fear.

We enjoy being our own slaves. Hard to break free when you're refusing to give yourself the keys.