Title says it all: something really different |
And now for something completely different... Not happy, not sad, not angry, not calm. Just existing within a world, merely alive. All things meaning nothing to it. Symbolism is only meaningful To one who wants it to be. A machine, being alive just to be alive, Gaining nothing, losing nothing, just is. Does activities just because it can. All alone, nothing worth being with, At least not for a long period of time. Observing others through a glass ball, Observing the interraction between others. Nothing really matters to it at all, All it wants is to be alive. Love, hate, fear, aggression, joy: All gone, never really being in it anyway. Alone in a crowd, part of nothing. All that is needed is life for it. Standing out, blending in: A paradox of existence. It is another face in a crowd, That catches eyes as it walks. Evil, wicked; good, noble: All applicible to it, Depending on the crowd Always on others opinions. Always something it ignores. So it exists, as I watch it go, Emptiness in the eyes so full of life. Old and young, yet content. Maybe it was the smart one in society: Living for the sake of living, not for pleasure. Pleasure always leaves us behind anyway. |