The Clown Chronicles VIII
Channel: The Mind That Writes
Date: 2021-03-12

The Clown Chronicles VIII

We write the title down again
maybe this time it will happen
letters will fall into perfect order,
create something worthy of ink, paper
time and a brain that loves to
overcomplicate everything.

Let us allow ourselves to dream
where the seam between reality and fantasy
is no longer our addiction towards perfection
rather an acceptance of imperfection as beauty,
laying down in the eyes of the most curious
beholder
watching a boulder rolling down the hill
refusing to shout and warm the lonely pilgrim
travelling at the bottom:
without a clue that life is much more shorter
than advertised on 6 second ads while waiting
for the song to load
  ah, what does it matter
  it's all relative anyway, besides
  we're easily distracted
  attracted like moths to light
  to preserve energy and flood the brain
  with dopamine, ketamine, anything that
  numbs everything to a silence that invites sleep
a place where we don't have to weep
about the unjust weight of existence
crushing our shoulders
  we try to carry responsibility 
  it's all in vain, look at the others
  they have it much better than us
  we find it quite appropriate
  to raze them to the ground
resentment is in no short supply, no wonder
when we break down everything in fragments
without being able to suffer the consequences 
of complexity -

Let us not forget how easy it is to lose any semblance of control
when guided by primordial impulses mixed together with convenience
progress is easy, coping with change not so much
how befitting to forget its price when in rush
to an orgasm, feeling the presence of god in the anger of lust
lost in viewing the only mechanism that makes sense
biology and the need to pass on the seed;

this is what you get when you mix everything together
an unexpected epilogue, an ending worth nothing
such is the way of constant uncertainty 
under the rhythm of going with the flow
  susceptible to a change of mood
  according to the position of the moon
  quality can't be forced
  neither can we

get ready for the honk
we think we know we are
remains to be seen
k.