Thursday, September 27, 2018

6 degrees

Of Course the muse hits a bit after midnight...where I am in a box when I long to walk the wet dark pavement and know that I am real.

Gone are the days of anonymity, where you could go a mystery unsolved, where words were spoken and unregistered into the great electric mind - forever preserved in a screen shot and a save.

The days of 6 degrees are upon us.  Barely a challenge anymore for a girl who was once told by Mister Goldfinger that she was crafty and the Secret Service had nothing on her methods.  Back then defeat was defeat - an admittance to a formidable foe.

Now threads are so obvious you can navigate them in your sleep, barely a blip on the emotional EKG.  Goddamn it, where is the WORK, the HUNT, the primal scent of blood and the horns blowing in the deep woods.  The chase is gone - no skill afoot - it has made me dull.  A pair of baby blues looking 2 hours into the next state; show some originality, damn you.

Apathy is a form of bliss - the result of perceiving no challenge at all.  Disinterest I may tell you- but not in all capital letters.

In my mind, relationships have converged to meet in a recognition of mob mentality.  Not one individual stands out as we all stumble that same lost path, the same error in judgment.  Rats in a maze I grow tired of...such drivel set before a mind made from stars.

Literature has taught me a catalog of behaviors and species - It seems I am part of the problem.

I am bored to tears, yet i shed none.

'She went like one that hath been stunned and is a sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man she rose the morrow morn'