We are all narcissists. Some of us just needed to lose the face to the name. |
We are lucky to be in a time and age. When all that we do is kept on a page. But not by a sage. Or a scribe. But the infinity realm of the worlds hard drive. And although many may not subscribe, you can show all on a blog, echoing the vibe. Your memory stays jogged, So although you wish to be remembered by our race. In reality you'll see that your impact was a furtive glance on a stoic face. And that relatives see us in greater depth than the squall,Revealed is a pattern of seeking approval, From people who are seeking the same from this cold earthen ball, reconstructed from silicon pain-proof withdrawal, Algorithmically indistinguishable insane sea gulls. Me me me, for all our time in space we believe that were the star, in a devu of life, we think we can beat the par, it only began at our conception, were like a dull knife, were adored and were all opposed to strife, but in the process we fail to draw blood, and leave an unevolved unresolved freak show fife, shrieking on high, but its a high thats been preached, allready reached, but not impeached, and inaudible, irritating to the masses that divide us little, but become the focal point in a synthesized teams riddle, and others are just extras in our minds eye projection,We could keep things together, or replace the parts, but after restoration deterioration starts. And the repairs are a marketable reconstruction of your charts, by-which you pin your lifes path to anothers empty hearth. And when it springs to life with a fire of passion, all that youve said will become out of fashion. So take photos, you say, or sketch your concept, and even these will fade, our memories still inept. So truly it is the only way, in indifference to the sentimental fray, the truth with which you wish them to be scarred, the iron grating an unworthy safeguard, an expansion of indistinguishably bland coal chard. Hope is a vanity we've longed to discard.A calling card for effort and energy discharged. A non-renewable resource, not found in the eyes of a racehorse, nor the jockey whos paced force, is what gets past the second place, not in the childs eyes, the ignorant parosyte, but in their fanfare, parents and gamblers. They remember you first, they remember you last. Thats not the point for those who care, the swords double edged, the lasceration keeps leeking and their proud of you, but the rest of the apathites fall through. Were forgotten unless we happened to found that level, through legal papers and moneys gavel, forced respect, so when you fall hard on your piles of gold coins, hoping they were liquid, your funds will become obsolete, like evrything in this world. Theyll eventually deplete, materials you accumulated. And when your gone the possesions are divided. So accumulate expieriences, accomplishments, good deeds, and youll live on through your impact on the petri dish. Still here. |