i feel so tired
so empty
as trance music pounds relentlessly on my hapless ears
i sit, pondering
what exactly has happened
nothing, nothing
the same train ride
the same bus ride
the same faces
the same music left on endless loop reverberating through my eardrums
what is happening
nothing, nothing
life is like an old videotape
its age old dust disguised as a veneer of shimmering splendour
life is like an empty bottle left in a glamorous kitchen
i fill it up with interesting juices and elixirs
one day, the videotape crashes onto the floor
broken, broken
rolls of plastic splattered like entrails on the cold cold floor
the juices go wild, revolts
they explode
the bottle shatters into a billion tiny pieces, floating, floating
what is going to happen
nothing, nothing
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