once upon one life, just that one. and no more.
not important enough for many.
nothing more valuable to those who have had to make the spoon they suckle on.
life at its best isn't fair, and said in a worldly way; also said by scar, we take what we have for granted and always see greener on the hill to the left.
unfair or bitter sweet? from the beating feet from the heart of the cities to the hearts beating in the land not many live ,we are all living.Bodies breathing living but are we all living with the beats of the heart we have grown?
some know not how to listen, only to rush past life itself, daydreamers with thoughts to fill the sea they float on and the stark fear of surviving itself.
i find to be stuck. the kind of stuck close to the feeling of a carousel of moving mirrors, the slight nausea of a hurried world and the confusion of the real self standing before you.
craving freedom of the developed today in a sense of justice, yet freedom of discovery.
we can only do so much. why? to my thoughts are my actions a hinder, let the mind free, truly. can it? To sit on the fence is both a feeling of uncertainty and literally a sense of security,but the realization that the mans sweat that made the fence made the machines to bring it down and the outcome that we must choose a path.
think and do, think?, do?, survive?
