it always seems an attempt,
                 to tell the most expensive jokes...
the anti-taboo: there is no
                         taboo types of jokes,
   for a crumb of all possible
freedoms,
                    that exhausting crumb
   of  chit-chat...
                 for some reason birds
                 do it much better than we
do...
          if there's a reason to talk,
i.e. retort,
               then people talk...
   but to just simply talk...
           for one:
       i'd rather listen to music
and not exhaust my larynx...
   unless i'm not whistling or
humming or singing a song
on a mute button, but nonetheless
contorting my face to
imitate the words pouring into
my ears?
                 i find not reason to talk,
or protect the right to do so;
waste of a good silence,
     so much so that i might as well
be plagiarising kierkegaard...
  who said:
        people always worry about
their freedom to talk,
       never, their freedom to think;
after all, thought is the supreme
verb...
             yes, that ghost of a verb
attached to a body, easily
dismissed by atheists and materialists
as the non-existent soul...
      forget mental gymnastics
adding a comment to someone
talking...
     try mental yoga...
      stretch for a while...
       inhale something inconvenient,
and allow yourself to brush it
under a carpet, which later starts
to fly off, into a beautiful sunset...
  so, if there's a rhetorical question?
surely there must be a metaphorical
answer...
    do people feel comfortable
in each other's company when they
have to continue talking?
   or when they can sit in silence
   and feel no need to say anything?
by god,
    i had to adopt an old man's mentality
in my youth so many times,
    a year to me is like a lifetime,
  i watch the differences between
summer of one year, and summer
  of another,
   the same with winter...
   i try to summon the stereotype of
an agry youth,
     but after a while i'm exhausted
and just end up drinking ***
      and laughing into the night;
have i somewhere to be? someone to talk
to? something to see?
      something worthy my attention?
perhaps...
      perhaps this is a continental
   approach to an american "thing"...
   i remember the loudest ******* at school,
constantly ******,
   putting on airs, puffing up chests
toward a diatribe...
                            but god...
     it's like this cognitive-phobia invoked by
that need: for a security, of being able to
say whatever you want...
                   it's almost akin to being
claustrophobic, or ego-phobic?
   this need for a constant squash match,
to bounce off other people and then strut like
a peacock...
     no bear (esp. a polar) looks magnificent
in a zoo...
              the white turns to grey, from lying
around all day... sure... lions can be kept,
pandas too... lazy ***** that they are...
          i'd like to have coined a better compound
for those people who are so desperate to
speak... but find it horrifying to even think;
     how sad; how very sad.