You're like a child looking for a toy.
You frantically scramble about searching for something. a thing. it can be anything.
But your telescopic mind has been searching the horizon
for something at your feet.
You are the rain on the parade.
The paper mache falls apart and fresh horseshit mingles with the running water.
It'll never dry at this rate.
You have to listen with your intuition.
Because I'll never say it out loud,
and because its best left unspoken.
A thought is supernatural.
it has no limits or boundaries.
It is infinite.
But then we give it words and it becomes just another sentence.
And that simply won't do.
sigh.
How can you be so shallow so deep down? |
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Because everyone is shallow deep down. Most are just afraid to admit it.