And I am enveloped in this dreadful feeling of anguish
Which I have perfectly avoided for so long a time
There was one time I almost forgot how to cry
For then I can only stare and feel nothing
Drowned by other people’s furor or sentiments
Then there was a time my world just looked all peachy and sunny blue
Because I saw the days more than speak it
And discovered I can draw strength in spectating and paying heed
There were oodles of time that I had peace and shared it with intent
Because I preferred to say no with a smile
Acted patiently with vocation, ardor, and less want for recognition
You ask now, “so what is eating you, Millet?”
“What is this predicament you are in?”
“Why all this fussy emotions when you know you can do better than mope?”
Because my fairytale story ended up lopsided, and practically bored me to death.
It is not worth telling nor is it worth remembering…
I stunk and the director called it quits!
Poor mushy mushy me…this is not a slight disturbance
But who gives a damn now?
I know I am not all right, not OK.
I am sad and moping, but I am strong.
Once the sting is no longer a sting, and turns into a sore, breaks into a wound,
and just before you end up mutilated with excruciating pain…
your whole system shaken…and right in the nick of time,
moments after you said “I can’t take it anymore!” because you feel all hell broke loose…
Then…there is a fading noise…none…perfect silence…numb…
Whether the story ends totally or just for tonight, or continues tomorrow
Who knows? Who wants to know? As I said, I bored myself to death.
I do...I want to know.
ReplyDeleteWell, that's too late to ask now...I can't remember...as I said, it got so boring to a certain point...I died or it died, whichever came first...it doesn't matter, because it's DEAD! The feeling's over, that's what I meant. But, thanks for asking. :)
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