What day is, shit I'm a mess for not keeping this up daily. The thoughts I think of when it rains; It's been raining off & on all damn day.
Well first off I thought of how this lil' rant zone for me is going to be pretty overlooked. I know it sounds negative, But to me thats good. It's like doing graphity; Your art can be seen by many. But more often than not people just simply shut it out. Only those who would appreciate it will find it. The rest of the world is blind. We make ourselves blind because we begin to forget a part of our humanity. We lose it in the grind of social dogma that haunts our waking hours. Routine & repitition are the slow death the majority of us suffer under. I'm not totally free of this either; In fact I feel like a livestock animal knowing of my fate to be slaughtered. It's maddening at times to say the least. But why beat this old horse; New to you yet very old to me.
One can only ask where their lives are headed; some feel the best is yet to come others mourn the passing of better days. We all end up dead in the end; Tyrant to saint, king to slave all journeys envitably lead to the grave. I know I know, I should be smacked for that haugthy bullshit. But truth is thuth, I can only shake the dismal facts of life. The only regret that burns deep now in my mind is the need to get away. The yerning to roam. Perhaps soon.....perhaps.
Well first off I thought of how this lil' rant zone for me is going to be pretty overlooked. I know it sounds negative, But to me thats good. It's like doing graphity; Your art can be seen by many. But more often than not people just simply shut it out. Only those who would appreciate it will find it. The rest of the world is blind. We make ourselves blind because we begin to forget a part of our humanity. We lose it in the grind of social dogma that haunts our waking hours. Routine & repitition are the slow death the majority of us suffer under. I'm not totally free of this either; In fact I feel like a livestock animal knowing of my fate to be slaughtered. It's maddening at times to say the least. But why beat this old horse; New to you yet very old to me.
One can only ask where their lives are headed; some feel the best is yet to come others mourn the passing of better days. We all end up dead in the end; Tyrant to saint, king to slave all journeys envitably lead to the grave. I know I know, I should be smacked for that haugthy bullshit. But truth is thuth, I can only shake the dismal facts of life. The only regret that burns deep now in my mind is the need to get away. The yerning to roam. Perhaps soon.....perhaps.