Talking to people
just like every activity
just prepares you to talk
to more people.
Two neutrons,
then a charge,
the bridges held by the good will
called trust.
Words are just temporary nonsense.
Talks vary in quality
and in perspective.
From sad jester to genuine saint, white knight to prude nun.
Heroes collectively elevated
in our heads
names given to swords;
Legends risen to end gracefully
or to eventually fall.
Look behind the mechanics
shallow intentions with no larger purpose at all.
My will is stronger than some chemicals
my mind in control tries to be strong.
And if there is nothing but a certain truth to life
waiting for me;
would be thinking it
really
be so wrong?
I think I have ripped the curtains too soon off.
Does this mean
that I am doomed?
Something left for me,
not to do,
but aspire to be
listen to
in a man made illusion of worth?
Is there
anything despite crisis aversion,
bragging rights and better food at all?