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￭ The only thing
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2009-08-26 | |
I am an actor. Everyday I perform on an improvised scene
Which is the scene on which my life
It may sound tragic to you?
I could laugh and say oh no, dear, youâ€™re totally wrong
Itâ€™s my spectacle
and millions of insects come to see me
I have their souls in my hands
I can make them cry until they are left out with no voice
Helpless, just as I am
With the difference that I am their queen
Even though thatâ€™s just for a moment in their precious time.
Or I could say yes, youâ€™re right. Itâ€™s tragic, itâ€™s being tragic everyday
I walk on pieces of unstable boards
And every step means a huge noise under my foot
that covers me. And makes my insects fly away.
Because they are scared of anything may go wrong.
Because they are fragile
Just as the pieces of unstable boards under my feet
And here I am, laying on an improvised scene.
Not knowing if itâ€™s wrong or right.
You say itâ€™s wrong, I say itâ€™s right
But then you say itâ€™s right, and I say itâ€™s wrong
And then I say canâ€™t you see?
Youâ€™re just as blind as everyone else
The sound of your unstable board under your feet has made me run away
poor insect. That I am.
Poor abandoned king that you are.
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