It’s sweet and laconic and somebody dies while somebody else lives, but the story you are telling has already been told. See, the police lines you are trying to cross, to get to the other side, the side where it’s all too easy like peppermints and paper cuts, therein lies the evidence, and you can’t, you just can’t tamper with the evidence. After all, it’s the whole entire proof of your unwhole, unentire life.
The thing is, this is never going to end, every time, every single time you try to raise a roof over your brain and embalm your callused feet, every time you try to cover up all the scar tissue in expensive, 100% pure linen, they are going to chase after you because they don’t care about the two-year warranty and the two-bit, good-for-nothing salesman that smiled at you.
I am worried that you want everything and nothing at the same time. You have to pick a side because they haven’t made a coin yet where you get heads and tails simultaneously. See, the point I was trying to make got lost in the hyperbole again. But, what the hell, making sense is so overrated. Anyway, doesn’t matter. Remember this, come what may, you will have to pay the price for being yourself.
Wasn’t it Jimi Hendrix who said you were the voodoo child, but right now, it looks like he plain, white-faced lied. Hey, at least, the man had the coolest afro ever and lived till he was 27. You died when they pulled you out of the womb of
Meanwhile, do you know, what makes Robert Plant wonder?
Posted By
Swati.
Because good copy makes the world go round.
Few lines made sense to me. And they were good.
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