Sometimes it’s hard living when you are cognizant of your eventual demise.
Everything around you expires like rebates, spoils like milk…
wilts like flowers and Chamberlain, decomposes like Bach in reverse…
everything fades…loses color, yet ironically we say it dies.
Sometimes it’s difficult living when you are aware of your isolation.
Whether real or imagined, I imagine what appeals is just as real,
as the things we’re disgusted by.
the people we are lusted by…
the people we lust after,
the idols we blindly follow
the cure we chase…
all of the fallacies are a tough pill to swallow.
But even that’s only if you’re looking at the half filled glass upside down,
pour the rest out and let it evaporate into the ground…
and then proclaim that you don’t have shit…can’t see the point in any of it…
but even then, you pay attention long enough and a flower may grow.
I turn my glass over all of the time…but it’s usually into the cups of others…
so when I say that I don’t look at life from a half full perspective,
it’s due to looking at others drink from my benefits.
And that’s the beauty of it all.
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