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Consider the possibility that every single thing that happens in the course of a given day is designed to align us with our potential. We are all connected to the entire contraption so there’s no use trying to get away. Some people are perfectly pleased to be cogs and others insist they are pistons. We keep climbing up and spiraling down, wondering what we’ve been missing.
I’m allergic to strawberries and yet I keep going back to the fields for more. My lips puff up and my tongue gets thick, but I still can’t imagine them making me sick. Some say I’m a hopeless romantic, but I surely can’t give up on hope. Without that magic potion, I’d have no way left to cope.
My favorite new age sages all agree: the cause of my disease is me. Well, if I’m not at ease with who I am, then who am I supposed to be? They say don’t sweat the small stuff, but then everything is small. Sometimes you get to play the bat and sometimes you feel like the ball.
I have half a mind to go back to bed, but the other half’s on the prowl. I’m a mouse afraid of the daylight who gets eaten by a night owl. I’m in search of words that work to unravel my discontent. I keep finding phrases that sounds so good, but they’re never what I meant.
Once the song is complete, I start to work on a novel. But a limerick makes more sense to me now and doesn’t require me to grovel. I come with hat in hand to sell my linguistic wares. But once the machine confirms my brand, I’ll be sold in stocks and shares.
The year ahead brings travel. I’m off to foreign shores. I’ll dance in the footsteps of giants and try to open doors. I think I’ll bring myself along, because I don’t know where else to leave me. I’m sure if I left me, I’d be up to no good, even if no one believes me.
I’m beginning to think outside myself and wondering where I fit in. I’m still just a lecherous lad with a dream, but I’m too tired for the wages of sin. If I ever got caught for all the things I’ve thought, I’d have to start all over again.
One of my heroes gave up the game and watched the wheels go round. He stumbled into a patch of peace and left behind a lovely sound. Few are those who make it through all the work that needs to be done. Far, far fewer find a way to keep it fun.