Monday, December 11

10,500

If I could go back to the beginning by ending this time, this age
And picking up where a new one left off, and is starting
Where the golden sun awoke again from the turmoil of the ageless
Pall-black ocean and made the world special
I would

But six years may be too long to wait
And a hundred thousand people in my town alone mill about like ants
Except not as cohesive or functional; they spend time fighting each other
And in their inefficiency leave so much to be desired, but ants do not
Desire, and they are inefficient by themselves as well

Maybe I am too unkind
Maybe everything unwinds like a stone clock carved into granite walls
And Olmec heads do not depict separate ethnic races
And there is no master civilization
And maybe all my words are words of madness and desperation

Except for one thing:
To me they are truth
And I can only live my life and make choices
Based on my perception of the truth.

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