Say friend, I was wondering if you could lend an
ear? Can you listen and not just hear? I feel my anxiety
is more than just fear. My weaknesses exposed, although
not quite clear. I push away when someone comes
Time, passing quickly, and brings me to a place; of
intolerance, suffocation and a despite need for
space. I’ve been searching for the cause, but it’s kinda
hard to trace. Maybe my own self worth is at the base?
I’d love to blame others to save my own face, but my
guilt is my own, so it’s just not the case. It’s hurts to
admit, but I feel servings my fate! That’s just what
I hate, when others around me become a weight, putting
an extra serving on my plate. I don’t bother to
debate, I just accept what they make, but, I think
it’s time to re-evaluate; for my own sake.
(“Esse Est Percepi”) To be is to be perceived, it’s
seemed to be what I’ve believed, but I’m a juggling
magician with balls up my sleeve. The sphere’s move
and the eyes deceive, people are watching and cannot
conceive… but let’s bring this back to my pet peeve.
That serving is not reality, it is something, which
I make be, by trusting those who are not free, telling
me of my own inferiority. Yet, that is the key! Our
words, our thoughts and what we see, the whole world
of tangibility, could all really be, a big ironic
Alas, I do digress, but that would be such a mess!
There’s too much competition to see who’s best. And
those with much less, are fighting for their nest,
they’re all hoping that it is only God’s test. So
who am I to sit here and jest? I am a fool who rolls
balls across my chest, a performer and artist – but who
would have guessed? I am not just a servant to serve
all the rest.
So, this all brings us back ‘round to here, the
beginning’s about anxiety and fear, and why I
predispose myself as just mere. I suppose that
I’ve made things really clear, with my passion for circles
and for spheres, and the influence of Shakespeare… That
I may be quite queer, but nonetheless a dear, and
worth a ton, no matter how weird!