(no subject)

[radsadpanda]

Thoughts, everywhere.
messy.
they spin and flutter and
clutter and
clutter
the meager brainspace i have left
after
conquistadors and
politicians and
social movements and
documentaries and
so many statistics
tear at my cranial seams.

the only way to appease these Thoughts, and
the only way to retain their meaning
is to free them from their pin-ball existence,
put them to paper and let them
bleed ink and conscience into the air.

but when?
those overwhelming moments of
truth and revelation
always seem to pass,
before my
lips have chance to speak
or my fingers grasp a pen

the moment fades and i am
once again
messy.
cluttered and
cluttered and
cluttered.