Forfeiture of Existence or Work Sucks
While pacing the hallway of a mausoleum to the human spirit I wondered what it was for. The machines stopping and starting. The aunts marching with crumbs upon their backs. Hollow shells of humanity all around me, like a thick grey border of failure. Am I one of these creatures, slaves to a family of dollar bill recepticles? Do these people have dreams? Did they ever? For them is this IT, the life...living.
I don't think we should be bound forever to the bad and left with only fleeting snapshots of the good...there could be a balance...
there must be a balance.
there is.
what is it?
I don't think we should be bound forever to the bad and left with only fleeting snapshots of the good...there could be a balance...
there must be a balance.
there is.
what is it?