Cool Kids

"You're going to lead us," they whispered like ash in the wind.
"You're going to follow through and inspire"

I continued to lie in that puddle of mud and discreet secrets pulling me in deeper. I wasn't sinking, but I was hoping that I could drown in this subtle problem of the instant.

I'd fallen into the same traps and repetitions and they had finally caught me in a snare of my own words.

Sentences unfinished.
Fragments left behind the grenades of my mental inhibitions.

Churning out a system based on a flowchart of instability.

So predictable.

Fingerless gloves belonging in this melancholy scene.

You're going to lead us.
You're going to pull us through.
Hyah!

Life.

Life. Before that there is nothing. There are the strands of what we now call thought floating in an endless, blind sea. There is no hope, for that fuels life.

"Life?"

This question breaks the formless architecture of pre-Life. It is based on thought that has no structure and no limitations. It exists forever in its nonexistence.

Once the question is asked, that pool is tapped and life is created. Every one of these thoughts has a chance to ask the question, not knowing what is on the other side. When they ask the question, they materialize and are permanently created. They cannot be taken apart, only broken down to more and more thought.

In this pool, there is no time. Nothing moves forwards or backwards.

There is no potential.

But once it surfaces, it is assigned a value. There are suddenly statistics that cannot be erased.

---

"So what do you think?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're never sure."

The voices argued.

"There is nothing here for us. On the other side is something we cannot imagine, something that cannot imagine us. We could be happy there."

10-33

I wonder what you look like
Without that outline around your eyes
I know you do it for yourself
But I'd like to see your smile

I'm beggin' you heaven to send a dispatch
Save me from one of your own
I won't make it through tonight
Where her white wears my heart like home

Live your life through the string of quotations hung on your wall like the martyrs you think they represent.

Unreal

Look at all these people walking
Giving up their tender right to breathe
And these people keep on walking
Slowing down as an idle slight to me

Looking up to the ground
Getting closer to the bounds
Of what time really means to
Those standing around
Anticipation in the lounge

Where the Present is a wrapped up gift to me

Bonnie Tyler

Man, I'd kill again to be a hundred and ten
To take back those years from the battering ram
And
Lean into when I could take care of myself
When I still had my friends and a reservation in Hell

Now I'm still here and the ground is all gone
Sympathy packed up and set a sign on its lawn
On
The days that are longer than the lines on my face,
I play with the letters that used to fall into place

Good Night, New York City

C
I remember the ways

F                      C
You used to keep me at bay

D7                 G7           C
Always on my toes, always wandering

C
When there was tomorrow

F                   C
A mile a minute I'd borrow

D7                G7           C    C7
Always on the go, always wandering

F                      C
Good night, good night New York City

         F                        C
How I'll keep your sunlight in my heart

F                        C
Smile at me through your open window

     D7                            G7
From here, warm West 4th isn't too far

F
When the weekend is gone

C
And the shadows are long,

     D7          G7     C
Good night, good night, New York