Because there is no...
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Because there is no category of crap  

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This, is Sunday
Something we can all agree on, if
We are consciously active participants of this collective reality
However it may be, or what manner it may come
Say if
It be boring, depressing, hangover nursing, spiritual or
Just sitted with a dog named Madi
We can go through it in our unique fashion
With the premise of it being collective reality
Some in deep and religious ways
Some, like yours truly, seemingly in vanity
Pardon me I lost track,
I’m actually losing my shit coz of an alarm next door
= resume
So, say by the end of it we contribute to the act of feeling regret
Because we didn’t do shit worth mentioning
Because we didn’t save the planet (who are we anyway)
Or because the only benevolent act was eating bacon
And eggs
And Russian
And felt no guilt ( spread love)
There might be an overriding feeling that this day was an incoherent waste of time
Where you woke up programmed to think about God
But couldn’t resist thoughts of booze sex and tbag by boity
Followed by sadistic urge to kill your neighbor
Seriously my room is right next to the alarm, it’s still on
Perhaps unfiltered, raw and rhythm devoid communication
With no sense of direction could very well be
Fuck, I wish I could turn them into firewood, this alarm is insane
= factory reset
In a world of pseudo bliss and confusion
Where I’m stupid enough to think the very noise loud enough to stop my studying is not enough to impede my thought in prose
This, is Sunday
Something we can all agree on, if
(If you read this far, I’m sorry just give up)
But this is Sunday
Somehow we are hell bent on breathing to its end
As more freckle and emotionally fragile wads of protein
With fear riddled in every human dimension possible
Fear of loneliness
Fear of failing
Fear of death
Fear of bringing life on earth so they too can have
Fear of death
Fear of missing out
The list is endless but this is where it ends



Posted : 07/07/2019 2:07 pm
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