I don't have any answers I can't recall the right questions Even with makeshift blinders I find myself open to suggestions I've had enough with these reminders I catch a glimpse of the problem in reflections Dark and light are missing critical dividers Please help, can't tell angels from demons? We three share the same voice as Pinocchio nose liers What road is it they say is paved with the best intentions? Something about a destination of eternal fires... Eh, it's a moot point now, I fly by the stairway, going 107 on the highway, it's one way, no need for directions
It started when people stopped bathing Or showering.
Every day before they went to work or after their 5 mile run. People just stopped stepping into their tubs Or showers To turn the faucet handles that activated Cold and hot water to fall from the plumbing.
They gradually Lost interest in hygiene. Personal cleanliness was ghosted.
Everything else mattered to them, until it didn't. Getting their kids to school on time mattered, finishing the work project by deadline mattered, visiting relatives in Montana mattered, driving to the store for groceries mattered, until it didn't. Simply ceasing soap and water on flesh.
They just stopped bathing. It's not that they were afraid of water. If near the ocean they would still run and swim in the waves, Or jump into the pool at the Hilton. No they weren't afraid of water. It was something else So slow And insidious that it was hardly noticed at first.
The domesticated animals picked up on the phenomena first. They became anxious. They scurried, tried vocalizing. They sensed a lack of intention from their care givers. They sensed a lack of worthiness inside of their humans. The animals began to wonder about their own well being. What was their future?
Once you start with a variation from normal, from routine, from tradition, the pendulum swings. The people didn't realize what was happening. Then it slowly dawned on them over time. They didn't feel needed. But kept it a secret. The secret necrosed from the inside Out. They forgot that connecting to one another Was vital to survival. Their silence could be deadly.
An idea came to mind how in depression one stops caring about certain things. What if everyone did?
perhaps the moth simply doesn't know the strength of its own wings but the way it flutters seemingly erratic in its choices never straight forward in its direction can be infuriating at times as those silken sails appear to force it where none expect it to be in disjointed circles often far off course only occasionally will it find itself exactly where it should be whether accidentally or by design its every path is filled with calculated corrections revisions and redress in order to reach its intended that source of light one way or another
i would like to keep bees or at least i like the idea of keeping bees to be honest i know nothing next to nothing about all that it entails but it seems like it would be cathartic although their frenzies may be calmed by the smoke movements must remain slow and gentle such fragility must be tended to carefully mindfully almost lovingly i think i like the idea of the peace to be found in those moments there is a shade-dappled spot at the bottom of the garden that would be the perfect place for them where the humming of the hive would accompany the swaying of the tree's their gentle whispering and the quietude that would settle beyond
she asked for a birthday calendar simplistic in design quite endearing nonetheless to collate each and every important date mark them down in her neatest clearest handwriting she thought that if she hung it in pride of place on the wall by the kitchen door her eye would be drawn to it each time she left the room she would not forget to send the appropriate message of congratulations and many happy returns when needed or expected; although the calendar may coincidentally be showing the correct month it has remained on that page untouched ignored or unheeded for the past eleven months