"Give Up!"
"Give Up!"
Give up! You’re doomed! Believe me, I sympathize with the desire to disconnect from it all. Life can be a bitch, that way, sometimes. It’s like a listening to Ornette Coleman’s band and John Coltrane's band playing simultaneously, in a small club. with no air-conditioning, and thousands of wasps hovering around your head, trying like hell to sting you to death.
But, I must admit, I can barely it take anymore. It’s soul destroying. I can no longer watch people lie so obviously. It’s like white noise. If it was subtle, maybe, it would different? But, maybe, some people can’t handle the overt, and the covert, and the ceaseless lying. I just wasn’t raised that way, I guess. Not that I’m noble. I’m not. I’m just somebody who grew up at a point in time when wars and rumors of wars were normal. When prosperity blossomed like a rose. Even though the prosperity always seemed to ebb and flow. Mostly flow.
But we never really knew hardship. Never knew real hunger. We knew want, more than anything else. Lot’s of want.
It was all the luck of the draw that put us here, at this moment in time.
Now, the question should be; “where do we go from here?”
To be free, but uncertain? Or, an indentured servant, a guest of the king, nobody, in particular, just a number in a long line of nobodies.
As the saying goes; “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”
At least that’s something.
Bust'a Crab
Give up! You’re doomed! Believe me, I sympathize with the desire to disconnect from it all. Life can be a bitch, that way, sometimes. It’s like a listening to Ornette Coleman’s band and John Coltrane's band playing simultaneously, in a small club. with no air-conditioning, and thousands of wasps hovering around your head, trying like hell to sting you to death.
But, I must admit, I can barely it take anymore. It’s soul destroying. I can no longer watch people lie so obviously. It’s like white noise. If it was subtle, maybe, it would different? But, maybe, some people can’t handle the overt, and the covert, and the ceaseless lying. I just wasn’t raised that way, I guess. Not that I’m noble. I’m not. I’m just somebody who grew up at a point in time when wars and rumors of wars were normal. When prosperity blossomed like a rose. Even though the prosperity always seemed to ebb and flow. Mostly flow.
But we never really knew hardship. Never knew real hunger. We knew want, more than anything else. Lot’s of want.
It was all the luck of the draw that put us here, at this moment in time.
Now, the question should be; “where do we go from here?”
To be free, but uncertain? Or, an indentured servant, a guest of the king, nobody, in particular, just a number in a long line of nobodies.
As the saying goes; “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”
At least that’s something.
Bust'a Crab