Drunk, drunk, drunk again.
Does it only feel like these people have abandoned me when I've been drinking? Somehow I suspect that's not the case.
I think I've been too optimistic. I think maybe, like so many people that came before me, that I thought I was capable of changing the way things are. And what's more, I think I thought that I could do it without putting myself up on the alter. But can we really change things without a martyr? Can that power really shift without the death of someone willing to take on that responsibility of those that have gone before them, in death, and in life?
Here's that punctuation: What makes the difference? Where do we go, when we dissapear? Do we slip into the hearts and minds of those we had hoped, or do we vanish? Do we fade into the shadows of those that tread this same ground after we have blended into the earth, or do we rise above the soil and shake the nations and the future, resounding through the world in a way that we never thought possible in our feeble, weak little lives? Do we stand outside the lives that we've lived, and laugh alongside the gods that tread the boundaries, or do we sit on those lines and bow as the ones that we've made greater than us pass by?
Where am I? Do I know the people that are passing byme every day?
Does it only feel like these people have abandoned me when I've been drinking? Somehow I suspect that's not the case.
I think I've been too optimistic. I think maybe, like so many people that came before me, that I thought I was capable of changing the way things are. And what's more, I think I thought that I could do it without putting myself up on the alter. But can we really change things without a martyr? Can that power really shift without the death of someone willing to take on that responsibility of those that have gone before them, in death, and in life?
Here's that punctuation: What makes the difference? Where do we go, when we dissapear? Do we slip into the hearts and minds of those we had hoped, or do we vanish? Do we fade into the shadows of those that tread this same ground after we have blended into the earth, or do we rise above the soil and shake the nations and the future, resounding through the world in a way that we never thought possible in our feeble, weak little lives? Do we stand outside the lives that we've lived, and laugh alongside the gods that tread the boundaries, or do we sit on those lines and bow as the ones that we've made greater than us pass by?
Where am I? Do I know the people that are passing byme every day?