Blades about the edges.
The further they fall, the less I fucking care.
Communique: Get a grip, get a life, apologize to those whom you've fucked over. Stop fucking them over. Run back to where you got that permanent scowl implanted and raise Hell. Shatter your ways, the ones that serve to hurt the ones who care the most. Smash them in with a hammer, give them a taste of the fury of all of those who have tried to help and gotten nothing but bitterness in return. Consider the children, the flowers, the stars, and the divine truth that you are small and unimportant, that you are not worth the trouble that the universe went through to get your molecules to come together in this time and place. Look at how you are treating the miracle of your very existence -- by taking every moment, every instant, every person, every friend for granted, like it's owed to you. Watch yourself celebrating the sleaziest of creations: the invention of hubris. Now stop it. Figure it out, and how.
Communique: I love life and struggling, even when they are one and the same. I cannot, however, abide frustration. There isn't time for anything so selfish as dwelling on the difficulties. The world keeps moving, and it's enormously self-centered to not move with it. I am no more important than a blade of grass, which moves with the world. I am no more deserving than a stone, which moves with the world. Trees, birds, clouds and streams all move with the world. Who am I to break that tradition because I am having a bad day? I, a living, breathing part of the world will follow it where it takes me and say thank you for every moment I am allowed to be a part of those neverending changes. To be a living, breathing creature that refuses to change is so heartbreaking. It's so wrong, but I suppose that, for some people, it is exactly how they let the world go by, from inside a box.
Wake up. Life is all too precious to waste on resentment.
Communique: Get a grip, get a life, apologize to those whom you've fucked over. Stop fucking them over. Run back to where you got that permanent scowl implanted and raise Hell. Shatter your ways, the ones that serve to hurt the ones who care the most. Smash them in with a hammer, give them a taste of the fury of all of those who have tried to help and gotten nothing but bitterness in return. Consider the children, the flowers, the stars, and the divine truth that you are small and unimportant, that you are not worth the trouble that the universe went through to get your molecules to come together in this time and place. Look at how you are treating the miracle of your very existence -- by taking every moment, every instant, every person, every friend for granted, like it's owed to you. Watch yourself celebrating the sleaziest of creations: the invention of hubris. Now stop it. Figure it out, and how.
Communique: I love life and struggling, even when they are one and the same. I cannot, however, abide frustration. There isn't time for anything so selfish as dwelling on the difficulties. The world keeps moving, and it's enormously self-centered to not move with it. I am no more important than a blade of grass, which moves with the world. I am no more deserving than a stone, which moves with the world. Trees, birds, clouds and streams all move with the world. Who am I to break that tradition because I am having a bad day? I, a living, breathing part of the world will follow it where it takes me and say thank you for every moment I am allowed to be a part of those neverending changes. To be a living, breathing creature that refuses to change is so heartbreaking. It's so wrong, but I suppose that, for some people, it is exactly how they let the world go by, from inside a box.
Wake up. Life is all too precious to waste on resentment.
posted by Kate at 2:20 AM
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