A Ballad of Excellent Destruction
to pull the pieces from the sand.
I stick my hand into his shadow to pull the pieces from the
sand. Which I attempt to reassemble to see just who I might
have been. I do not recognize the vessel, but the eyes seem
so familiar. Like phosphorescent desert buttons singing one
what a weekend, i frustrated myself over nothing, but
that's me, over analyzing the obvious till it drives my
insane. wasn't it king edopus in that Shakespeare story
who's quest for the truth caused him to tear out his eyes?
it will never get to that for me, i like my eyes. sometimes
i feel as if the perception of my reality is un like any
other, but i guess cause i am me and no one else.
Im rambling, my point to all this is I met someone at a
party who was unlike any other person I met before, if this
guy was any more Zen he would have floated
I like enlightening people, the world needs more of them.
He gave me some vitamin's to kill off my cold of colds,
thanks M your an awesome guy...
Im still focused on the passive approach to life's little
questions and answers, the whole, in such just is a
proceeded implication in my head, the run around bullshit
is always the same, it comes just as fast as it goes and
its always there. Some like the drama others prefer the
tame, I like to observe both elements and try to figure out
where it all comes from...
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