(no subject)
When our lives are filled with drumming tedium, like a Wurlitzer with its rhythm setting stuck on mambo; when we feel ourselves trudging across a trackless plain of dullness, like an ant traversing a pie pan; when there is nothing to break the yawning expance of meaningless work, joyless relationships,and unendurable ennui-it is then we must count our blessings and tell ourselves things could be worse.
We could be dung beetles.
We could be dung beetles.