Where should i begin with this
This bottomless pit,
The craziness that has not started
Nor stopped where does this go and where does this end
When can i live and when can i say what i want and do what i feel like i want to do
Do do do I live like this? for how long how long does it take? what does it take? why does it take so much?
Ah the dance, the dance of a clown is so funny, so ephemeral, an apotheosis of an arterial flow of living things on this earth.
Why should i bother
Why should i care
What can matter?
Where is the death? Where is the light? Where is the truth? Where is the warmth?
Is there an end to this suffering? Is there anything else than the denials, the roman honor and all the glories in the world?
Why
Why
Why
What is an answer to this? Is there an answer? There must be. It must be. What should be done?
Ah, perhaps I know. Perhaps i suggest we sing. Sing out of our lungs the dances, the whistle and the thrusts.
Perhaps, that’s what all it matters.
Perhaps, that’s where it all ends.
Perhaps, this is where we say good morning.
10.4.2019
Ralph with Coffee 