Down the third aisle you can stroll if you want to find some trolls giving away the jewels
That aisle can hide the truth
Like a child and a fairy stealing his tooth
Down that aisle we shop for smiles Pearly white, and perfectly aligned
Down the third aisle we ask no proof to be filed
No identification. We are never defiant
Down the third aisle we each get a cart
We shop till we drop
Down another hole , another stage prop
To be back in that place
The third aisle where we are all packed and stacked
Perfect cardboard boxes, freshly cut plastic smells. Awaiting the price tag for one’s denial.
down the third aisle they can shop for us in piles
If we just close our eyes , recite our hymns and, pray for our buyers.
– Excerpt –
– Do you know what life is just like?
Well, Life is like a symphony. You may like it at first, even relate to it. It may conjure some living-like spirit of thoughts and emotions that holds you so deep. You feel you are right back there. So you feel safe again and think it is so soothing and mellow, slow yet rhythmic and in every delay and lingering in each note there is an absolute thrusting climax to be attained at the end of it , you enjoy it to the fullest at first. Then minute by minute it keeps going faster and faster, yet you still like it. Until it gets even faster, a little bit too fast for you, perhaps a bit obtrusive now. Your heart is beating and your senses are barely keeping up with the melody. Then your senses are barely keeping up with the memory of its need to keep up with that melody. Then a sharp cold tingly feeling comes hurling down your spine. It is so discomforting you don’t feel as safe and guarded anymore. And that’s so scary when there is nowhere to turn to in order to escape this. A shelter of some sort. Even for a little while. So you try and pause it, over and over again, until suddenly amidst your desperate attempts to lower the volume, rewind and/or pause it, it just stops. Only you are not ready, as it simply and promptly stops. It is over and you did nothing because there was nothing to be done. And that’s not enough for you. It is not fair, that you are left behind. Once again, and this time for the last time you are late again. You couldn’t catch up. But as a selfish child you don’t care for your incompetence, you want the ride to wait for you to hop on. You want more of the pleasure and undoubtedly the thrill. You want to make it, to succeed so you never have to face the facts and taste the failure and helplessness when that is all that is left on your plate. As there is no more for you, and nothing more is to be said or done. So you try and remember the good times you had , the passing fleeting moments of satisfaction you had throughout the symphony that high rise that brought back to the moments where, you truly felt alive. And the thought crosses your mind every once in a while: if you can only pause it, and change it a little bit. Adjust it to your liking and needs, lower the volume, or set it in slow motion. such an uplifting thought. But unfortunately you must know by now that you can’t. No one can.