the more things change they stay the same.


*She's got an octopus on her head.  Does it matter?  What does it symbolize?  Is she trying to be funny?  Or ironic?  Poetic?  Does it matter?  Not to me.  She represents my repressed youth or something like that.  I am about her age and when I was younger she sang what I wanted to say and sing and couldn't or wouldn't.
And now I am not so moody and repressed and she just sings songs that I enjoy.  No pressure.
How things change.

*Whenever I am by myself in the car I leave my house in a sense of rush, like I can't wait to get away.  And on my way home there is this overwhelming sense of anxiety because I have to get home and make sure everyone is still alive.  I can never get home  fast enough and a million thoughts go through my head.
My poetic self looks for some foreboding symbol: A black cat, a broken mirror, a storm cloud, a plastic bag floating that suddenly comes down from its heaven.  My literal self puts her foot down a little harder on the gas petal.  Never fast enough.
They are such extremes.  
The leaving and the coming.
They are so different.
Yet they stay the same.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Arthur, What a Wonderful Kind of Day

Day 5: Forgotten