“Desperate times lead to desperate actions.”
Like the man who sat on the corner, with hundreds of butts of cigarettes. He was picking them apart, collecting the remnants, and filling a bag with this makeshift rolling tobacco. From that he was rolling cigarettes.
Please save me.
Please set the table.
Please get evicted.
Please pick me up some juice.
Please clean the house.
Please make me a priority. Please?
Please don’t think I’m desperate because it sounds like I’m begging when I say “please”.
It’s a merry-go-round– car filling the road.it’s more pleasant than a vicious cycle, because there’s crappy sound of earth breathing in this polluted city. Merry-go-rounds with glassy-eyed patrons, reluctantly holding onto the reins of something so disinterested.
You’ll ride the carousel, bemused by the bright lights, repetition and laughter of stupid, stupid, carefree children. I’ll get off; you stay on and keep going around. I’ll wander about. I won’t know what to do with myself, so I’ll go back in line and get back on top of the fibreglass horse.
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