About Time
Record time biking to work this morning, didn't even count the number of buses I'd passed - But 40 minutes!? Fucken' clocks. You're all Squid-Clocks, telling naught but lies. I blame you for my distorted, impaired sense of time.
Squid-Clocks-It was an incident like this, I remember now, in my youth; in my naive, rash and impressionable youth, I trusted you. I had started cycling in Grade 7 or 8 when, to get to school it was an hour-and-a-half by bus if you caught your transfer. I figured, what the hell, it couldn't possibly take longer. But there was little faith I could put in you, deceiver, after travel time was quickly reduced to 15 minutes by bike.
Maybe I could've learned to accept your version of the truth, perhaps it remains my failing to recognise your wisdom. But it only got worse, didn't it? You would've had me believe that for Grade 10, to a school even further away, that travel time would not increase? Absurd. Ridiculous. According to you, it was viable and economical to cross the city and back again to go home on a one-hour lunch break. Well, I did it. But you put me in a bit of a conudrum: side with you and live in fear of a paradoxical backlash from the universe, or forsake you and all things time. And I wouldn't live in fear.
"To live without clocks is to live forever," I assured myself. And threw my watch away. [Actually, I smashed it with a sugar shaker 'cause I was punk-rawk, yo.]
Should've known you'd be twice bitter scorned. My life has been that of a cripple without you, lies or no.
please come back.
[music
|"Extreme ways are back again / Extreme places I didn't know / I broke everything new again / Everything that I'd owned / I threw it out the windows, came along / Extreme ways I know, will part the colours of my sea / Perfect colour me"]
[lunch
|chicken fajita]
Squid-Clocks-It was an incident like this, I remember now, in my youth; in my naive, rash and impressionable youth, I trusted you. I had started cycling in Grade 7 or 8 when, to get to school it was an hour-and-a-half by bus if you caught your transfer. I figured, what the hell, it couldn't possibly take longer. But there was little faith I could put in you, deceiver, after travel time was quickly reduced to 15 minutes by bike.
Maybe I could've learned to accept your version of the truth, perhaps it remains my failing to recognise your wisdom. But it only got worse, didn't it? You would've had me believe that for Grade 10, to a school even further away, that travel time would not increase? Absurd. Ridiculous. According to you, it was viable and economical to cross the city and back again to go home on a one-hour lunch break. Well, I did it. But you put me in a bit of a conudrum: side with you and live in fear of a paradoxical backlash from the universe, or forsake you and all things time. And I wouldn't live in fear.
"To live without clocks is to live forever," I assured myself. And threw my watch away. [Actually, I smashed it with a sugar shaker 'cause I was punk-rawk, yo.]
Should've known you'd be twice bitter scorned. My life has been that of a cripple without you, lies or no.
please come back.
[music
|"Extreme ways are back again / Extreme places I didn't know / I broke everything new again / Everything that I'd owned / I threw it out the windows, came along / Extreme ways I know, will part the colours of my sea / Perfect colour me"]
[lunch
|chicken fajita]