Whate a broken, tragic road we walk on. When we travel, our souls beat against the gum stained (or the matter of spit and rubber itself) path. Yet, where do we go? The answer is simple: On with our lives. Just like everyone else in this world, we just keep going forward, on with our days, seconds, hours, minutes, weeks, and just keep going. Wait! I want to take a step back. I need a moment to think about things...to think about you.
Not everyone stands over a brook. A creek just like where Ophelia died. Who is everyone, though? I certainly am not, neither are you, or you, or you. ["WHO IS ME?!"] Over the small river I stand, I am held not by balance, but by opposites. On one side, there is truth and care. On the other, there are falshoods. What side of me will win? Which magnet will flip? Or, which one will flip around and match the other.
"Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" I am a liar, and a betrayer. Easiest to fall apart, but easiest to put back together. Is that the sacrifice is should make? (My inability to chose renders that all be sacrificed to the Earth). I hate to admit when you are right, and you know it; I have told you before. Just like a ball in a hallway, you know how my behavioral patterns fall. Life, what choice do I make? To repeat actions past, or to lose actions future?
'Kas aš esu, bet jūs,
Tik laiko pertraukos mus.
Pamiršote begalinis liūdesys
ir kad žalias kamuolys.'
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