Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

“i'm small, i'm not a planet at all”

-the microphones

We lead such fragile lives. Our precarity is forged forth in minute awkward shuffle glances. We ride on tides of newspaper clippings, crashing aptly amongst a lengthy coast of squashed possibility. Sometimes though, we surge our arms out towards unutterable stars attempting to glance headlong at something eternal and sparking. What do we capture? Fireflies in the drift? Truncated moments? Furiously jettisoned ellipses? We are unsure, our footing etches its pathways in silt. On a half-formed repeat, sonic ramifications hum and wirr past tender eardrums. We lead lives of impossible fragility. Our nightmares reek of cut tendons. Our daydreams pulsate with whispers. Our sidewalks staunch with collapse. We all just desire to paint the impression of what we have to give. Our hearts, blue, still pumping, yet abstract. We are underwhelming impresarios, our dictionary pages transferred to digital. Our struggle is an always alien one because we have amnesia for the paths we tread. Was there a point to all this? A tendency to unify syllables? Perhaps, but it vanished among the thin glass cracked, now lurching towards oblivion beneath the surface. Wherewerewe? Wheretofor shall we go? Our lives are fragile. Our desires, precious strands. We were never tuff, we hang in the balance, we are tiny, we are shuffling, we are

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