pencils down. beating begins. one! torn papers filled trash disposals. two! smirking mouths with growing grins. three! mile after mile of celebrations that devoured words and engulfed stories into information jammed brains. this is relaxation. this is pleasure. four! doubting futures with uncertain paths. five! aching heads with plaguing questions. what? the mirrors don’t show this.
was it worth it? your life for programs and arguments and ego-driven sensationalists and dull melodies and mud-slinging instigators clothed in righteous indignation? are we dead certain we haven’t evolved? i guess i don’t have enough faith to get what i want.
did your money ask for complacent peers with swollen fingers and zombie eyes? did it demand a recompense of numbness for your hard work? i don’t believe it did. but you received it none-the-less.
and did your money ask for sincere guardians and well-intentioned companions? did it ask for broken reverberations to be filled with a growing harmony? maybe. but you received it none-the-less.
oh to walk the streets of peace and stability. to leave the alleys of darkness where you ring the doorbells of the unknown just to allow its melody to remind you of simpler days. but you’re left blind in the ocean reaching out for something, anything to keep you afloat. you’re on the verge of drowning, you know? the dark shadows of the deep are wrapping around your legs like ivy waiting for the right moment to bring you to the bottom of the seven seas.
the beating stops.
it will start again.
one…
posted by jon havens
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