The Art of Control

We have lost concentration and health. We have lost humanity and concern. We have lost peace and innocence, virtue and justice. This is the land where plasma and LCD control what the minds eye sees, where the body is ravaged by chemicals and biology. I feel like a stone in a deep lake. Where the waves of existence pass by me. Where life is centered around the lake and everything inside is living. The moss grows on my smooth weathered face and I don't need to eat, breathe, or sleep. The sun flickers through the surface heating me. The Carp spawn and stir the calm clear water in a turbulent dance of Darwin's dreams. The Catfish lay low in the pool harvesting the deceased. The turtle grabs air with calm fluidity. People on the streets and in their homes, on the bus, or on the phone think only they exist at that time and I suppose it's true. Their lives are only a flicker in the candle of eternity. We all get turned into the same soil, push back the air we breathe. If I could stand up and brace against the waves of harsh reality I don't think it will cause any friction in the scheme of things. My words of honesty and my poetic thoughts bounce off the walls and echo away into nothing. The punctuations lose meaning. In all the beds and in the heads of the busy busy people, no one hears the scribbles on the paper made by me. Thoughts seem endless although life may not be. That mossy stone in the water could really just be me.

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