What good does it do to run from here to there as though life were nothing more than a race to see who dies first, or dies best? One may travel the world and still see nothing. Music may surround you and still you hear no tune. Days at the gym without any strength, weeks full of books without gaining any knowledge, years full of life with all motion and no substance, yet all we want is more of the nothing we already have.
Heated seats as we watch a movie, food delivered to my chair, immersed in sound that’s overwhelming, what is the story we’re seeing there? The lines between good and evil are blurred, titles mean nothing, those in power remain abusive, and trust is betrayed without remorse. ‘Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,’ even if he can dance.
Twenty-five days of “What will you give me?” Those who have everything still demand more. There is no love in financial peril. All that is accumulated amounts to dust. No one needs boxes of brightly-colored paper when sitting alone in a quiet room. Give me your time, your presence, your conversation, and the sound of your voice. Please give me your nakedness, the touch of your hands, the embrace of your arms, and the kiss of your lips. Nothing that can be packaged in a box is as valuable as your presence.
Perhaps you grow tired of me sitting and staring. I don’t always remember the stories I once told. I struggle to find words to speak from all the noise in my head. I read something, once, but its wisdom eludes me. How convenient it would be if I could just blame the cold.
Saturday is here for sports and casual matters free our minds from the drudgery of existence. Wilfully inflicted pain of a few becomes the pleasure embraced by many. Score six points for the distraction and add an extra one for the entertainment. We too eagerly await the stretcher that removes the bodies of the fallen.
We invest in the romance of others when there is no feeling in the lives we own. If the matters of your heart were made public fodder, would the content spur jealousy among others? Perhaps some might respond in horror, and many would misunderstand and misinterpret your intentions. Perhaps the screen is best left blank.
Still, the cat watches out the window at birds it cannot reach.
What good does it do to run from here to there as though life were nothing more than a race to see who dies first, or dies best? One may travel the world and still see nothing. Music may surround you and still you hear no tune. Days at the gym without any strength, weeks full of books without gaining any knowledge, years full of life with all motion and no substance, yet all we want is more of the nothing we already have.
Heated seats as we watch a movie, food delivered to my chair, immersed in sound that’s overwhelming, what is the story we’re seeing there? The lines between good and evil are blurred, titles mean nothing, those in power remain abusive, and trust is betrayed without remorse. ‘Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,’ even if he can dance.
Twenty-five days of “What will you give me?” Those who have everything still demand more. There is no love in financial peril. All that is accumulated amounts to dust. No one needs boxes of brightly-colored paper when sitting alone in a quiet room. Give me your time, your presence, your conversation, and the sound of your voice. Please give me your nakedness, the touch of your hands, the embrace of your arms, and the kiss of your lips. Nothing that can be packaged in a box is as valuable as your presence.
Perhaps you grow tired of me sitting and staring. I don’t always remember the stories I once told. I struggle to find words to speak from all the noise in my head. I read something, once, but its wisdom eludes me. How convenient it would be if I could just blame the cold.
Saturday is here for sports and casual matters free our minds from the drudgery of existence. Wilfully inflicted pain of a few becomes the pleasure embraced by many. Score six points for the distraction and add an extra one for the entertainment. We too eagerly await the stretcher that removes the bodies of the fallen.
We invest in the romance of others when there is no feeling in the lives we own. If the matters of your heart were made public fodder, would the content spur jealousy among others? Perhaps some might respond in horror, and many would misunderstand and misinterpret your intentions. Perhaps the screen is best left blank.
Still, the cat watches out the window at birds it cannot reach.
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