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￭ Epistle of a millennial
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2012-10-07 | |
Your words have no calming effect at all
They cannot enter my mind with their soothing emptiness
They cannot lull me to the infinite beatitude of simple life
They just make me sick
Because their sound is as empty as a hollow mountain
Because in them I will never be able to hear myself echoing as in a hollow mountain.
Just grab my wrist and guide me to the emptiness of the blank sheet
And expect me to perform
Like a clown would perform in front of an audience.
But the good old clowns have long vanished.
No one cares about clowns.
They have disappeared
Just as theater and poetry has disappeared
Like writing on a sheet of paper has disappeared
Like looking each other in the eyes and saying “Good Morning” has disappeared
Clowns have been run over by cars,
Have been transformed into the patrons of golden arches
Have brainwashed you for consumption.
Witness the raise of the modern clowns.
Whatever… I never liked them…
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