Monday, November 29, 2010

The tick feat



It never seemed so hard. I've done it quite a few times and I always forget how hard it was. You don't care if you said good bye or not, you just miss everyone wholesomely. Whores, bores, killers, lovers, rock stars, morons, drunkards, nerds, gays, strays, nuns, bananas, ghouls and angels; it's wholesome.


I've listened and watched ready to carry them around in a mental diary. The diary doesn't filter nor does it give ratings. Except maybe the ones. I love the ones. They are not in a mental diary but safe in the heart.


The hardest is the thought of leaving home. The notion of always being foreign is almost intimidating really. Those sights and sounds that remind you, where you come from will be missed dearly. The taste of the wind will be anonymous and the scorch of the sand will be anonymous. They are all anonymous but adaptable, so survival will take care.


Leaving is always a reminder, of how time and we are one entity. It ticks and we tick too. We tick in and out to the North and South, we tick left and right with the East and the West. You tick or you're kicked, right out to the universal blues of a mess. A mess that will degenerate anything and everything you achieved in the past; your feat. It's true, you won't have to leave until you're ready to go.
What does your tick say? Will we tick together one day? I want to know how you tick. So hell yeah, I'll watch and listen, and I don't think I'll stop.

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