May 21, 2008
The navigation failed but my map says we're on track.
It's the third left ahead
And you see the black hole
You can get out, enjoy the surroundings
It may be your last shot.
Drop the gun, there will be no shooting.
Of course I don't listen, do I ever listen?
Unfocused and unconcerned; I wandered off of the road.
I dance to the beat of my own drum
And then the rhythm of yours
And then the tap of his thumb.
My music
The path has circled
Right is now left
So do I take three rights?
What am I doing, why am I doing, where am I doing?
I take six steps in reverse, overlapping the prints
My steps
I see round feet, left hands and notes in the ear
I get lost in the black woods, plastered on a blinding background
Might be a green screen but I can't seem to tell.
My mind is not within reach.
See, I have what they call a deficit
I pass by novels and the The Great American Inventor.
I am defined as a deficit
Blue flowers, pink bunnies
Oh look a flying fish
You know, the synonym is shortfall.
I've fallen short of your expectations.
George Bernard Show and I would have been the best of friends.
A life of mistakes is more honorable and more useful than a life of nothing.
His words
My story

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