Answers
are often rehearsed. As, too, are responses. I have learned what to say: the
pleasantries, the denial, the polite way of lying. The park is filled with pigeons.
They’re hungry. The extravaganza.
Advice is made public. It says the other person knows something. With
pleasantries come disguises. As, too, comes classical music. One might
smile. I sense a need for
deconstruction, the clock tinkering with sanity, the séances are mutual. The
novella awaits rewriting … something creative, unique, absent of stereotypes. More on existence: living is predictable and
non-predictable. Just a gem for thought.
A name will one day be uttered with clarity, lacking an attachment. The ambition is keen. The topic is undisclosed.
The moments are deviations from elements. Days closer to another stage. Maybe full
pledged acceptance. Choice isn’t always given; the mind will feel what it
absorbs.
