When the world weighs heavy on our hearts
Something feels not OK
Something interrupts our art
People say things
And underneath it feels angry
It feels like blame and need
And so many things
Words have a logic
And convey a feeling
Hidden exchanges make up the majority
The game for meaning is a facade
Words demand attention
Which will validate the feelings
The organism plays out the script
Fully oblivious to it
People have feelings
Looking out into the world
Trying to involve everyone else
Each of us believes our drama
Is real and important
Each of believes our suffering is sacred
Why else would we invest our attention
In what we don't want?
Why else would we build shrines
To how life has mishandled us?
We are the projectors
At what point do we take responsibility
For the content of the slides?
Sitting through a lifeless presentation
It has been replayed many times
And is now a skeleton of the past
I sit alone with the trees
And let it all wash on through
If it doesn't concern me
Then it doesn't concern you
unsure of source - sent this image by a friend
