i trip up on words most days
i write less, but i don't think less
in fact i think i think more
and trip up on the words more
and so writing less is easier
anyway what are words?
comparable to sand on the beach
comparable to the strands of hair on the head
there's a million and one of them out there
i see less meaning in words these days
even perhaps less meaning in my words
as time and effects take their toll
as the hunters and life perform a tag team
on my ability to dream
well, i guess i feel ok most days
just a repetition of the same things
i guess that makes me insane
you know, the whole
doing the same thing over and over
and expecting different results
actually, i don't really have much in the
way of expectations
expectations are the means to disappointment
and disappointment is the means to sadness
so i just survive
survive for nothing in particular
just to have something to do i guess
still maintaining a sober life
no drinking, no nothing
i try to find solace and coping in various ways
making music helps and music itself helps,
movies as well, but mainly old movies
i dont have much of the drive i once had
not much ambition left in me either
just a sustaining till the end type of mode
life has taught me things and it has destroyed me
just fragments of who i once was remain
who am i?
well, the cats are up to their usual activities
with the easy life
happy and content in their world
and i?
well, i don't have much left
it don't matter anyway
