Sunday, June 5, 2011


I am not writing letters today neither am I trying to interpret yours.
All the ink in the world has dried out and all the papers are yellowed.
Figure out past letters first....
Figure out how the world will end.

I stare into the vastness of the universe and I forget how beautiful it really is.
I stare,
Today I will not protest, I will not hold up a sign and tolerate being looked down upon.

I will not talk about what is just and what is unjust. Aren't they like what is right and what is wrong? Haven't we agreed that they do not exist?

I shall not take a walk with you and beg you to hold my hand.

I will not be the shoulder you cry upon.

I will not respond to the provocative noise of non-sense imposing itself into my bubble

Figure it out,
and maybe I will still be here.


  1. Just today, or always? Sometimes one needs a shoulder to cry on, or a hand to hold his...

    You reminded me of bubbles... isn't it funny that you never think of the bubble unless you're struggling to get out?