Log in

No account? Create an account
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
i write

I don't know what is beautiful.

Movies and books hint at this object. Is it a feeling? Is it a vision? Is it a person?

My days are like the little toys on assembly lines. They start out as unformed little objects, passing through presses and parts-adders, meeting underpaid factory workers along the way (although the underpaid workers are in fact more important than this toy). In the end, the toy is finished, ready for a short and almost wasted stint out in the real world.

The next toy is right behind it on the line. It doesn't really matter what happened or happens to the first toy - it is discardable, and not worth remembering.

And my days, my toys are discarded. And I grow older, and drop my petals like a dying rose.

Just like snowflakes, we are special and unique. Just like everybody else.

Peace out.

  • 1
Now I'm just curious about your lead content...

(sniff) and your point is?...

Beauty, is an abstract. Just another label people have made for something that doesn't really exist much like time.

Yay, labels. Nice and generic, just like television.

i know this isn't myspace but thanks for the add anyway

(Deleted comment)
No...not me. I took the 1st pic though. Thnx.

  • 1