Thoughts Lost Time

[Joey]

There’s always an undercurrent here for the ones who have been swept low. Along and gone to some place left before the other is through with me or you. Once we’ve even conceived that we’ve been had, a slew of tremors has already shook the weather to blowing cold, wound up and dried as leather.

Then going on from there, we can’t ever quite satiate this question to be brought forth as an asked query to timeliness being the reason and rhyme to life? When did I fall so far behind? And behind what since I know only this one time line I’ve lived by?

Alternate lines lived by some other guy who can’t matter to I! Some metaverse defined this past year or so - to be brought back to what’s mine to be meta? Only I know, maybe. Some other standard calls for reference across all our eyes to cite what’s becoming right by this earth we’ve so crudely swept up to this stage in debate.

When we go, do we cross by another way we’ve led, to then what we called life? How does one determine to quantify this affinity we have for our formulations to division. Staccato waves made to each lone ear passed, some melodic definitions said loud enough for us? Are you enough? Me? Ever wondered how another hears? Physics be damned.

When does my own word on the word become known as being one, if I’m even so privileged to be something like as written here? I’m a part time writer onto full expression in some art form only I’ve been born to. That’s so conceited to believe, but really. From whence we came? All of us for who we are, we really are born to die alone! It’s alright.

No one really knows how to deal with that part of us. That which isn’t, can’t be, and never was. Who is us to our own eyes?

 

[Joey]

Rewrite



There’s always an undercurrent above me. I’m currently in for those ones who we’re in and swept so low - alone.

Along a long night and now I have gone to some place in the outset. There has been some race to find what’s left before the other is through. With me or you. Some ephemeral feud I’ve no time for. I’ve been here before.

Once we’ve even passed this opal and heard before, conceived to us, and we’ve been had! A slew of cold tremors had already shook the weather to blowing old, stale wounds still wound up and dried as leather in some encrypted paste. Tied and feathered in a serum all our own. To be freshly wrought anew.

So going onto a vista from there, all shone bright and dry again as time heals.. we can’t ever quite satiate this question to be asked, to whet a ground up stone to be frank. Honest doubt met to timeliness being the reason and rhyme to life? And that is all?

When did I fall so far behind? And behind what? I know only this one time line I’ve lived by in alignment to what is yours and also mine.. do we own anything? Do we in time only come to disown all concepts, and just in time?

Alternate lines I cannot have lived! Like there is some other guy who can’t matter to I! Nothing is right, well alright. So where does my concept of nothing go?

Some structural metaverse has been ill-defined this past year or so - there? Or to be brought back to what’s mine to be meta? Only I would know, maybe. Some other standard calls for reference across all our eyes to recite what’s to become right! I stand by this only heavenly earth we’ve so crudely swept up to this stage in an environmental debate.

To which disaster and who?

When we go, do we cross by another way we’ve led our imaginary spectators to the spectral veneers brushed over what we called life and life itself? How does one determine to quantify this affinity we have for our formulations to such division? Staccato waves cacophonous and made to each lone ear passed, hoped to interpret some other melodic duo tone. To define both as said aloud, but understood enough by us? Heard?

Are you enough? Me? Ever wondered how another hears? Physics be damned. We’re all senseless!

From here to you I query to say from whence we came? All of us for who we are, we really are born to die alone! It’s alright and past us by already. No sightseeing here. We’re done.

No one really knows how to deal with the whole parts of us combined. Thoee which aren’t, can’t be, and never will to them have been. Who is us to our own eyes? I can’t see ultraviolet light..