Tim Wildes
I’ve learned my allotment in life. It took several years of trial and error, but I’ve learned what I was put on this Earth to do – what would be lost should I be lost too.
Have you seen me in the streets?
Did you step on my back when you were on your way to work?
Isn’t there more to the day-to-day travails than making that day turn night? As soon as nuance shows up into the equation, once there comes a transformation from the mundanity that is the collar I wear, I’m forgotten again.
I’m a plaything for how one makes conceptualization of the inutile.
And I’m most useful as a callback to simpler times.
God, please, I want so badly rid from the constant conversations about the past. It’s all I ever talk about anymore. The only thing people ever talk with me about anymore is what we used to be.
How do I break it to them that sometimes, someone stays the lowest common denominator?
Have you seen me in the streets?
Did you step on my back when you were on your way to work?
To them, I’m this relic, this point of reference for how far they’ve come.
And at some point, you just need to play their game.
When you can’t win, pity is the best you can get.
Leave a Reply