I am the fortune teller who is always wrong. I am the reluctant participant. I am the broken-hearted observer. I am something sappy that wants to be cute? Hahaha. I am something else? I am a believer. I am a believer in nothing. I am the sore. I am the emptiness. I am just playing right?
Just words? Just communicated ideas? Just symbols? Just representations?
I am a fart. I just farted.
I breathe in and I am real. I breathe out and I am extinction.
You could scratch something that doesn't itch. It's not impossible.
We are so arrogant. Soon it's animals who come to resemble us.
How do you live in this muck? Someone should ask me. I wouldn't have an answer.
Weird is insane to some. Embarrassing. They are embarrassed. Embarrassed someone might make a scene.
Am I untying the knots with this ramble? Or just tying up new ones? Letting the poison out? Letting more in? Questions without answers? Answers without certainty?
Well I certainly feel better. Do you?
