Sunday 11 August 2013

This Thing




Sadness, we don’t always scrutinize its history its root cause. I’m not a shrink so I am not about to provide Latin definitions of depression, sadness and general lowness.
What I do know is there’s this thing that makes me sad…this thing ...sucks the joy out of me...hell I can’t even mention it because well it jeopardises one of my most favourite things in the world. 

When this thing is done with me I feel...worthless, unappreciated and enslaved. I feel a level of fury cannot contain.
A speck of dust a wrongly constructed sentence could send sparks flying. This thing... is Diablo inspired...rooted in evil...covered in the blood of others just as me who are stuck in a thorny place of passion and poverty.
Love and contaminated efforts flushed down with semantics and sanitizer.
This place may be destiny fulfilled...it may be a truck stop of severely stale food in a shitty service station. 

Fuck!

It might even be my penance for passion over the realities of life.
 Everything about it is worn and torn out by pigs who’d sooner eat their own flesh than save another. This thing is life as I know it... my moulded, rat nibbled, super skinny slice of daily bread.
There’s this thing that makes me sad.

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