Looking in. Wondering what's going on. What are they all saying without me there. Woulsn't matter; if I came back into their lives the conversation would stop. Party done, captain serious has arrived. Why is he always so serious anyway? He's funny but no fun. He's smart, but I don't need to be corrected. What use is he?
Out here my fist is buried in pudding. I've pulled out of my past lives in every form and proven the universal truth; I've achieved nothing. I am where I was. In debt, alone, confused, injured, hobbling, overweight, tired and deflated. When you're still deflated after all this huffing and puffing you have to wonder if there is a hole in me. Where are my gaps, from which end of me does my hapiness escape? My head has the most holes, that has to be the source of the problem. Pretty flowers taken in by the nose; sad resentment out through the mouth. And all the while gestures of love and affection passing from ear to ear. My head needs fixing, some patching up.
Attack the head and the body will fall they say. I hope so.
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