Why do so many resonate bland if words are the spice of life?
Maybe it’s because most words are wasted
mindlessly regurgitated in perfect repetitions and well-practiced streams.
Fingers in my ears, head-spinning, the cycle is vicious with no bite.
I’ve been bitten, one more of the seven blowing chills like kisses.
Time and again, hearing the same weightless conversations.
Repetition, repetition, sends me running for the hills.
Never to be seen again, at least that’s been the intention.
But, I’m a social creature, and I crave connection.
So… here I am, back again.
*end scene, sad clown, curtains fall*
A million eyes behind the scenes, not one pair is watching.
A thousand hands and not one, constructively dirtied.
A hundred minds and no seed of inventiveness, not one of them resonates soundly.
A single soul soured at the picture unfolding can bring the giant down.
Who will it be? Is it you?… Is it me?
I dream of detaching, shifting into a new thing.
If this is to be my reality, it might benefit me,
to think about the words I’m saying…
And start offering them more or less lightly.