Oxymorons

ᴀᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ɪ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃᶠˡᵒᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ. ᴇⁿʲᵒʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ!

ᴀˡˢᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵃʸ! 400 ᵖᵒˢᵗˢ!

Human behaviour

is nothing but a series of oxymorons

strung together

and made to look like they belong.

They belong in the stars,

these whims of ours

that makes us so fundamentally human.

Yes, everything eventually falls back

right into place.

But we seek chaos,

don't we?

We seek to overturn and revolutionize,

in with the new, out with the old!

A constant state of change,

when we very well know

that constancy can never be change,

oh look, another oxymoron.

And then in pursuit of making a difference,

we become generic.

And there is nothing more tragic

for someone seeking to be extraordinary,

than to be generic.

Human behaviour

is a series of contradictions.

The people who seek chaos,

eventually conform,

and those usually so meek and demure,

rebel in the dead of the night.

The stars in the night sky

store these stories for us,

they store these stories

of the fickle human mind

that in seeking to be anything but the norm,

creates the norm,

and nothing changes,

simply because everything does.

Oh but oxymorons are beautiful things,

like the light and the dark,

and in seemingly opposing viewpoints

a mutual sense of respect

often blossoms unprompted.

Each acknowledges it.

It is vital,

the existence of a worthwhile antagonist,

to make their purpose known.

From praying for no obstacles,

to craving a worthy adversary,

oh humans are so incomprehensibly unpredictable,

and therein lies the beauty.

Human behaviour

is nothing but a series of oxymorons

strung together

and made to look like they belong.

Everything falls back

into place

only for it to be returned to chaos

once time is up.

ᴛʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ!