There is a perpetual, never-ending frustration festering underneath my dinosaur hair. It is this lonely, crowded, and completely starving beast that haunts me from within. My waking hours are spent trying to make peace with this feeling, but it seems no truce can be reached. I am afraid that my vision has become compromised. I want to know, but I don't. I want to ask, but I can't. And I could never bring myself to understand. In a futile effort of exhaustion, I turn towards friends, family, strangers, the wind and sky. Why can't I become you. And why haven't I the slightest clue where to start.
1 comment(s) to... “Angst”
1 comments:
yes
there is no question
there is no answer
there are just emotional states
and a culture which rids us of our potential for contentment in the here-and-now
for the sake of productivity
unfortunately, it works
and we wouldn't have met without it
-torsten de winkel
Post a Comment