Dark Colors Coming:
When we force ourselves to concentrate on not focusing on those images we carry along and take out when they really should be kept in, well you really can not keep them out, and they will eventually find their way to the front of the line. As they secure their positions in the scene and we wait as more images begin to develop. They start out dark in color and they enter from the sides even sometimes from the bottom but never from the top. I like to imagine for a moment that they are clouds, even if they are dark but just then they start to roll and roll and some do it sideways, others in a tall and thin whipping fog. It is pollution of the mind and it is testing the edges of the environs looking for a weak spot and wanting to get in – to gain full access.
Where Do the Stories Really Go?
All that lead up to anyone’s undoing is initially outwardly inflicted, but once we defeat them we have the real enemy to deal with – ourselves. Maybe the stories will be told, maybe they will remain quiet and die and maybe they will be tucked away in a manila folder behind so many other broken lives. Or worse of all, coated lightly and woven into the fabrics lining of a wanton conversation of recollection by question. Delivered as a passive piece while at a park having a picnic in the sunshine with a new woman and bottle of wine.
We All Know a Man
We all know a man like this in today’s modern day. With a abnormal
smile, reaching to open a doors handle out of courtesy but would gladly slam
that same persons head into that very door. It’s all there just below the
surface ready to be swapped out. Ten minutes prior that same hand anticipated
then pressed hard on the horn in his automobile at the flicker before the red
light turned to green and held down upon it as if to release the pressure in
his head though the heel of his hand. We all know a man like this. Maybe you
only met him once, maybe he is your neighbor, and maybe he lives with you.
There is so much included in the cost that has since passed, remember it well and
remember it always. A man like this will remember what he wants to do.
I Was Sinking:
I was sinking, smiling and going down, I decided to leave home again in the hopes of finding the only safe time that I knew, anytime far from here. Excitingly curious times can be the worst of times, they can be curses in disguise, monsters in the mazes for me theses times were bliss before and they were comfortable — as in familiar. These times were trouble for others, those that cannot occupy chaos for long. What is this country doing for the doomed? Do you realize that you are becoming a rapidly and destructively doomed people? You’re inheriting a mess