Thou art slave to fate , chance, kings and desperate men.-john donne
John donne shoulda met Sean John.
Death be not proud…
Love that old English.
I’ve heard that the Master returns like a thief in the night 🌉
No one knows.
No one knows when or where,or why .
An aneurysm in the brain, here one moment, connecting thoughts and logic and laughter.
Then you’re gone 😔
The desperate men In that story,,that’s you.
Just as much as it is me .
I saw someone use the term FireSoul 🔥.
A soul that fights itself..
(how’s it goin’?)
Suck my dick is how it’s going!
Death be not proud 🦚
The ones before and the ones after.
Talent and potential, forks in the road and vicarious living..
Let me tell you something…mister.
Let me tell you what I’ve seen.
(Difficult)
Difficult as a motherfucker.
Your bones get sore,
You feel some grinding to the atomic level, and you look around.
(Makes sense)
Sense enough…
Nothing is fair.
I only have to outlive one person.
After that?
Adventure or dirt nap, all the same.
Doom and gloom supposes room and broom.
“Clean it up!”
Clean it up they say…
I’m tired.
You can have your party but I simply do not want to go.. not today.
Tomorrow I might feel differently,
When someone gets punched in the jaw and they drop to one knee,,
Not fallen, not knocked out,
Just taking a knee.
Not running out the clock, just clocked in the jaw…
Ugh…
I see your jaw.
I can see it from over here, just FYI..
Nothing special.
Meat and bone and mortal coil.
The mood will shake, and I’ll return with something lovely, I’m just tired.
Very tired.
dawn 