2001-10-03

I've been known to lose track of time rather easily, but never have I lost as much track of time as tonight. I sat down at this computer at 9:25, and the next time I looked up it was 1 am. It didn't feel like any time had passed at all. I might not have noticed if my body hadn't decided to tell me that I wanted a cigarette at that moment. At any rate, here's the poem of the night.
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I've got dreams by the pound
And a earful of chaos
These are the nights
When time is conspiring
Against the romantics
And the cynics alike
Everybody's got to die sometime
But I can't help but feel
That I got shortchanged from
The begining
I seem to remember paying for
A few more opportunities
Than I have
A couple of near misses
And an accomplishment or two
The past few years
My life has been
A wrecking ball in motion
Just waiting for something to hit
Finding only empty air
Where I thought
There was a structure before
I've felt the tears of
Forgotten gods fall upon my shoulders
And the stampeding of ones
We know all to well
It all seems to fall
On the head of my unanswered questions
But I think I'll smile for you
And sing my own lullaby
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No, this doesn't mean what you think it means. This poem should not be taking literally, although the metaphorical truth of it stings my head. You see my good friends, as any half-assed occultist with any knowledge of initiatory traditions knows, death means a lot more than the literal meaning. G'night, and remember "Coleslaw can be your Friend".

~MattMagus

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