choosing the bones out
with a blindfold
freeing the writer within
the color within, the unheard within
so much to say very little know how to describe
to define, refine the words stuck between
the tongue
better unheard, indeed.
misread?
you say what you gotta say I ain’t hear to judge
I am here to splurge
my self-awareness
that little do I know about myself, indeed.
so let me indulge
ourselves
in the grudge that I hold for not having thrown us out into the unknown
when we got the chance to free our souls from the manufactured idea that we got to be loud and clear about what we came here for
how the hell do I know what is best for me when everything seems so shiny and brighty, and it won’t work out, actually, I’ve tried to stand out but my head keeps spinning around
on the fact that I do not know what’s best, either right or left.
so many options, man, why does God keep on pushing us to make decisions, He should be the one in charge of our fate, He’s the one that has precision
instead we gotta choose one in a million.
I love it.
that’s what makes this so boring-ly, exhaustingly,
inspiringly,
fun.
free will.
we shall all see each other on top of that hill.
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Foto: Pinocoteca de São Paulo, BR