There’s an old saying about how imitation leads to becoming. Well I think it’s a lie, however they say it. I been imitating for years and I ain’t ever become nothing. Some folks, other than myself of course, believe me to be some of these characters I’ve been trying on. That always gets me: when you realize that some one else is giving you the trust, getting your meaning, just plain being fooled. Such nonsense swilling through my head. Always. And so much pollution in the blood. Still. It is an obsessive death panic attack. It is just one more line. It is easy as guilt. It seems that’s how I roll, the cut of my jib. So I toil under infinite capacity mind watcher. And loose my sense and lock the door. Lay on the bed and look around holding my breath and just. What? What? WHAT?! And then blank. Blank as sky. That’s how it is today. Same as yesterday. And same as the day before. Blank follows me around these days. Chums up with a hand on my shoulder. Says 'So this is how it is?' 'Can’t recall' says I. 'Hmm' says Blank. Hmm.
No comments:
Post a Comment