Sunday, July 7, 2013

Sunday, July 7th 2013; purly ritually, a facade

As of late, I have been pondering the art of making a choice & the possibilities of other choices & the importance of these possibilities. I would suppose that I've come to the conclusion that there is no importance in what "could have been" but there very well could lie great potential in what can happen & there very well couldn't. When contemplating a conclusion there is a delicacy in deciding, for even if you have a sure idea of what's to come, there will never be any way to predict an ending. Which brings me to another thing that I have been contemplating, what if all has been mapped out already? Mapped out by a divine creature or perhaps by the idea that time could not be linear at all? Choices become almost irrelevant, because there doesn't really lie a choice at all. Guilt, anguish, fear, cautiousness, all meaningless feelings. You could have been created to be the fool. All universes need fools.


In fear of taking flight, I refuse to even enter the terminal, leaving me as hollow as a rusty can in a parking lot during the emptiness of the night. All alone, all alone.
What will become of me?
I called for a taxi though only carrying pocket change with me
I left my suitcase in the trunk of the vehicle
I left my heart in the backseat
jumping out, skipping down an alleyway, singing happy tunes
happy to be a fool
happy to be a fool

There are rules that come with friendships
There are binds that come with love
There are laws that come with living
There are laws that come with living
What will become of me?

I could do anything

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