from an old journal

[johnnyripped]

Is this all there is?
Is fading youth and impotence really the end?
Must I take consolation in an old man's golden bird?
This desire, this heart sickness that all seek to fill with something.
Money, love, sex, work, fucking knitting.  
Why?
Why fill it?  Why settle for numbness when longing howls?
This screaming need is what makes us achieve and change.
It is never sated, we just become deaf.