We seek not to be
Vicious memories of yesterday
Nor idyllic visions of tomorrow
For the former binds us to a sorrowful soil that will never bear new trees,
And the latter creates ladders with legs that may break under the imbalanced weight of misplaced expectations.
But oh the fright of living in what is here,
Stuck in linear time yet nonetheless always running in place
A holodeck for all, none and the One.
Run run run to me
Run run run to you
Run run run to us.
Let’s get lost in the eternal nowhere
And die forever in the finite everywhere.
Let’s be the dying everything
And the immortal nothing,
Hahaha,
As if we have a choice.
Clay The Scribe 