Scribbling:
Tragedy of
Wanderer:
Pursuit! Such
damn word, driving us insane, here and there, day and night, awake or asleep. You
ask what it is about, hell knows. For it changes color like a lizard, playing
hide and seek through bushes and while you keep on charging at it, running
behind like a stupid maniac, you do not want it once you have it. It is dead
already, you think so while putting it down. You find it all messed up like a
coin dropped in shit. You do not want to carry it anymore. You leave it like
that, disgusted and walk away looking for another piece of metal while scanning
through bunch of garbage. Alas!
The desire
stays still, like a cockroach inside sink pipes, waiting to walk out once its
dark and to give you nightmares. Oh don’t you sleep, they might even hunt you
down. They love licking your face, while laying their eggs upon your sleeping
eyes, only to leave you blind, to not to let you see anything else but those,
Pursuits!
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