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Untitled

count the number of lifetimes that you have wasted and you might be an elder in the hundred years club. seriously we squander countless days in immobility. we wake like zombies and fall asleep wondering how the day went. everything passes in a blur. we miss the all the important things while we languish on the wall like yesterday’s graffiti. get of the wall and jump into the mix mortals. we day dream too much. we desire too many mundane bits. get of the walls of shadows huh. i am new. i am fresh. yesterday went awol. what do you want to do about it? drag the past septic and squalid into the future? but the future is now. it always was.

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