It’s All Scripted
Fade in
It’s a beautiful morning, the underground
Can I see just one time as one whole
—For I see are bits, only what I think
Some bits only what I feel?
Just nanometric bits of existence,
Maybe it’s all scripted
Like a tragicomedy on television
All my life I’m only a tenant
I don’t even own my own life
And they talk about buying land on the moon
When it is an insult
When you buy whisky for one thousand bucks
Aye, it is no god and no reason
Just like we can have no military in democracy
It’s all scripted, tho’ in one ceaseless screenplay
Ever prompting growing and acting and travelling
The fact is the story: a whole, a ne'er ending
Cut to black
30 September 2013
MORNING. INSIDE OUT. THE SUN IS STILL ORANGE.It’s a beautiful morning, the underground
Can I see just one time as one whole
—For I see are bits, only what I think
Some bits only what I feel?
Just nanometric bits of existence,
Maybe it’s all scripted
Like a tragicomedy on television
All my life I’m only a tenant
I don’t even own my own life
And they talk about buying land on the moon
When it is an insult
When you buy whisky for one thousand bucks
Aye, it is no god and no reason
Just like we can have no military in democracy
It’s all scripted, tho’ in one ceaseless screenplay
Ever prompting growing and acting and travelling
The fact is the story: a whole, a ne'er ending
Cut to black
Postscript As a rule in another overly formalised human activity, scripts are usually written in Courier font, 12 pt. I feel like my life in a script—not necessarily believing in fate and destiny and all—but with a very particular starting and ending. I would take it is a farce at its best.
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