Simulated Stagnation
How long can everyone lie there pretending to be asleep. Eventually you have to either get the fuck up or fall back asleep. I guess that's all we're doing waiting for a blissful slumber to find us again.
How many eons will go by before it's realized everyone has already fucked everyone else out of the picture.
We are the walking dead.
Super soldiers gone wrong.
Accelerated growth on coffee, speed, and nicotine.
Maybe that's where the drinking comes in. Trying to slow down the accelerations that's occurred so fast we didn't realize it until it was far too late.
There's nothing to save you, you looked too hard for too long.
All you have to show for it is sockets where once glowed eyes. Maybe there is a fire inside. But when you compare a flame, no matter how bright, to a raging forest fire. Well, what is there to compare? All you can do is throw yourself in and hope something beautiful occurs from your destruction.
How long can you live a li(f)e reading about the exploits and adventures you should have, could have been a part of.
If I were a tree would not I stagnate upon seeing how far away the sky was.
There could never be a tower of Babel because what could man accomplish in the shadow of something so great.
All that one can hope for, plead for, is being an unnoticed phenom. Maybe when I'm dead I'll be able to change one fucking person’s life.
We rot away staring at a simulation of the electromagnetic spectrum. Our key strokes define out lives, pretending we are making something tangible.
So what?
What’s the difference anymore? Is my time spent better elsewhere exploring the left over landscape of some other time that I was too late for.
Maybe in my magic little square that looks into an electron abyss, maybe there I can find something new.
What's the purpose of doing something to say you did it? What's the point to experience pure and utter beauty just to know it's something intangible you can never experience again.
The only true happiness I've ever known is driving. Just me, the road, music, and smoke blowing away behind me. See, when you’re driving you are in the act of accomplishing something. You are going somewhere, you can think of what you'll do when you get there, how great it will be. So what if it's never as good as it seems it will be, because for one unholy second that can last years, you are on your way to accomplishing something, achieving a status unknown by mere mortals.
Want to comment on this Prose?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Prose and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|