Wall Clock

The ticking clock never stops; each noise a reminder of all that is wrong with life, that nothing good comes from those who wait; it comes to those who seize it with uncommon knack to fill it up with bullshit, sucking marrow from dry bones, proselytizing  about their life- their grandiose statements are pebbles in a shoe. And yet, we are running the same race, heading the same direction, do the details matter in the end?

 

an insane percussionist, keeping uncanny time; I can hear the micro movements of butterfly wings- Embrace the onslaught? Is documenting every micro-second, like they are cataclysmic events…Ah, but now I lost the thread, time has murdered again.