it's funny to me,
everything,
not haha funny,
but reality,
is a joke,
the more i know,
and i know a lot,
the less it matters,
the worse it gets,
it's a catch,
fucked up joke,
i've peaked,
so everything now,
reaks,
of a downward relization,
breaking all flower covered branches,
down,
down,
down,
down,
down,
to the bitter roots that began the growth,
and it doesn't matter,
it doesn't matter anymore,
it never mattered,
things are,
and to figure out,
doesn't get you far,
it gets you right back to the problems,
that you could never solve anyway.
posted by fillshe @ 12:49 AM
1 Comments:
well if i sound depressed it's a lot to do with michigan-nuclear winter.
second, sorry to hear about your deals.
third, that poem isn't really about depression. it's about realization of some truths, that actually you touched on... such as realization of uselessness, in the sense whatever one tries to do, it'll be a letdown more or less.
in buddhism, there's a philosophy that desire of anything only leads to pain. that's sort of the same point. now i knew that a long time ago, but i didn't realize until recently how much so it really applies. i mean, i knew, but i didn't get it, until about 40 hours ago.
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