is everyone else also constantly at war with themselves?
— my life.
as you shout your frustrations
I didn’t hear what you said,
but I felt it speeding by.
I braced myself against it
as I would a strong gust of wind.
It whistled through my ears
I think I even felt my hair blow back a bit
Your point was only barely made, dispersed among layers of sonic disarray
but your overarching unhappiness shined through like the sun.
Of that first night [we met]
Of that first dance [we shared]
Of that charmed afternoon [in the city]
Of the very first moments [we stopped being strangers]
Burned into my mind
Being. as digital information
Reproduced on countless computer screens
Evidence for everyone to experience [with us]
That first time
The very first night we met.
“alice went ranting about how I didnt know anything and how I should cut my hair, then I said how apart from sexual organs and hormonal distribusion there is no difference between sex. she stoped talking at that point”
aaww, proud of my brother.
It’s that lack of satisfaction, that discontent that drives us forward.
Well, me, anyway.
It’s complacency that has one end up in loveless unions, in second-best career options, in that double bed they tell themselves is a queen that lies in that pathetically lit bedroom where you wake up every morning next to Mr. 3rd Best and push aside thoughts of “I was meant for more than this.”
There is not enough time in the day for everything I want to do with my life.
All anybody thinks about is getting paid and getting laid.