conversation, these thoughts.
everything is just merely
floating through territorial
space as letters, as symbols,
as sounds never truly having
meaning anything. it is still
a wonder how violence and
chaos can actually feel calm,
normal, and at their very best
state, underwhelming.
preparing for something big
isn't anything we've all
hoped for. every day doesn't
have to be always at stake.
coffee burns on your tongue
while making uneven pale
pancakes for trying to wake
your sorry-ass self up, on
every sunset, making up
the tiniest excuses to not
recognize important any
longer, 'cause there simply
is not. nothing. at all.
once acceptance of lazy
is as needed as it does not
matter whether milk or water
gets set up by chance,
we're not really having this
conversation, try to wake up
your sorry ass.
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