miming in the dark to the blind
there could be an easy reason for gravitating toward writing
to a small group of most faceless people i'll never meet.
it at least gives me the power to care less about who i'm writing to
and how many aren't going to care about reading it.
if i ever wanted to say great things and make an impact with someone,
i'd have two choices:
1. either i'd have to be a complete genius that no one is,
with the guts and arrogance to understand that everyone else
isn't saying anything meaningful or worthwhile,
as i choke silently about it and say my cute and clever words that inspire everybody or
2. i'd get lucky that it found the right person, someone else
who was actually a genius and raved about my words to the point
where everyone had to read them,
and suddenly played pawn to needing to hear them (like keruac).
the internet gives no easy stage for either of these.
we're a room crowded with mimes in the dark,
flapping our arms to the blind hoping someone will catch our signals,
our entertaining s.o.s. with fluttered hearts.
we think it means something to us,
but meanwhile we arm ourselves with butter knives
on the real visible dangerous streets,
flagging down our attackers for directions to the mall
to buy the newest gps or cell phone.
p.s. this all sounded better at 5:30 a.m. while i was in my bed
tossing and unable to sleep.
to a small group of most faceless people i'll never meet.
it at least gives me the power to care less about who i'm writing to
and how many aren't going to care about reading it.
if i ever wanted to say great things and make an impact with someone,
i'd have two choices:
1. either i'd have to be a complete genius that no one is,
with the guts and arrogance to understand that everyone else
isn't saying anything meaningful or worthwhile,
as i choke silently about it and say my cute and clever words that inspire everybody or
2. i'd get lucky that it found the right person, someone else
who was actually a genius and raved about my words to the point
where everyone had to read them,
and suddenly played pawn to needing to hear them (like keruac).
the internet gives no easy stage for either of these.
we're a room crowded with mimes in the dark,
flapping our arms to the blind hoping someone will catch our signals,
our entertaining s.o.s. with fluttered hearts.
we think it means something to us,
but meanwhile we arm ourselves with butter knives
on the real visible dangerous streets,
flagging down our attackers for directions to the mall
to buy the newest gps or cell phone.
p.s. this all sounded better at 5:30 a.m. while i was in my bed
tossing and unable to sleep.