Honestly, I don't find anything wrong with stealing. For one thing, we all know that there is a shortage of everything in this world. From cats to pomegrantes, love and accidents. Surely, I say, nothing is wrong with getting something that is not yours. Necessity is the culprit, makes
fools of us all. I am sure that under the heat of the sun you have always felt somewhat lacking; a little out of breath from running for so long. Don't listen to what anyone else says. Just put your hand in there, this cold jar of life, which is everyone's jar, if you think about it. Today, when you pull up your hand, it might be clutching a mouse, dead for 12 years now, smelling so foul that you wish you had died with that aunt of yours who never loved you. You are getting the slow feeling that you were always alone. You keep hoping in the secrets of this jar, wishing that finally it will be there --- the thing you have waited for so patiently. Imagine this then : one ordinary day, you pull it up and it is true to the form you have always thought it would appear to you. You wait for the feeling to overwhelm you; for this object to say I have always been yours. But it remains numb and golden, the eye of a god.
fools of us all. I am sure that under the heat of the sun you have always felt somewhat lacking; a little out of breath from running for so long. Don't listen to what anyone else says. Just put your hand in there, this cold jar of life, which is everyone's jar, if you think about it. Today, when you pull up your hand, it might be clutching a mouse, dead for 12 years now, smelling so foul that you wish you had died with that aunt of yours who never loved you. You are getting the slow feeling that you were always alone. You keep hoping in the secrets of this jar, wishing that finally it will be there --- the thing you have waited for so patiently. Imagine this then : one ordinary day, you pull it up and it is true to the form you have always thought it would appear to you. You wait for the feeling to overwhelm you; for this object to say I have always been yours. But it remains numb and golden, the eye of a god.
No comments:
Post a Comment