We go through life like drunk, raving cowboys with guns blazing at our hips. With our wit, intellect, and ego we shoot down any thought, gesture, comment that moves. In the process we don’t gain anything other than a perverse sense of superiority. Many bonds die and, if we have a tiny conscience chugging in our hearts, we wake up the next day with a bad moral hangover. Restraint is one of the toughest tricks to master.
Rants and raves, reflection and reverie, responses and regurgitation, recollections and revelations: rightful restitution by a reprehensible rascal. A blog about me and every other runt that slaps my back while passing by.
Friday, May 20, 2011
All That Needs To Be Said
The more I listen,
the less I have to say.
All that needs to be said,
has been said already.
But the brain tricks me into saying
things that have already been said:
The vacuum around me fills up
with words that gush out like a geyser
and lead to another blank sheet
over and over again
in a silly unending loop.
Damn you, brain!
All that needs to be said
has been said already.
the less I have to say.
All that needs to be said,
has been said already.
But the brain tricks me into saying
things that have already been said:
The vacuum around me fills up
with words that gush out like a geyser
and lead to another blank sheet
over and over again
in a silly unending loop.
Damn you, brain!
All that needs to be said
has been said already.
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