Oct 2018
09-24-2018
Caterwauls, there are oodles of pain in that puddle of solidarity. Reverberating through the halls is my independence, which flies past, teasing no string for anyone.
“Does…..”
“Does it fly too high for us?” asks the child.
“I’m afraid so.” yearns the older child.
Perhaps that is the cruel face of our inauguration into life. That stage we wear out our soles on is a facsimile of our minds; just a perfect portrait in a frame of time. We can’t trust ourselves to measure the constructs in our towering caves. The universe is a disservice to the neurons, the sky bridges that have our grey matter endowed.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s a big thing to grasp, but we’ll soon grow into it. I think we ought to believe that. I might leave some people behind. Are you okay with that?
Everyone here has to grow to such a height where they may accept their own speed, where the velocity of their footsteps is made apparent and remarkable. This note must end now, but you’re sure that I’ll be back, aren’t you? I know you are, you must be. This should be enough, you know. Time comes for everyone in erratic bursts, and it deserts one like a vagrant.
Caterwauls, there are oodles of pain in that puddle of solidarity. Reverberating through the halls is my independence, which flies past, teasing no string for anyone.
“Does…..”
“Does it fly too high for us?” asks the child.
“I’m afraid so.” yearns the older child.
Perhaps that is the cruel face of our inauguration into life. That stage we wear out our soles on is a facsimile of our minds; just a perfect portrait in a frame of time. We can’t trust ourselves to measure the constructs in our towering caves. The universe is a disservice to the neurons, the sky bridges that have our grey matter endowed.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s a big thing to grasp, but we’ll soon grow into it. I think we ought to believe that. I might leave some people behind. Are you okay with that?
Everyone here has to grow to such a height where they may accept their own speed, where the velocity of their footsteps is made apparent and remarkable. This note must end now, but you’re sure that I’ll be back, aren’t you? I know you are, you must be. This should be enough, you know. Time comes for everyone in erratic bursts, and it deserts one like a vagrant.
