I stepped out of office to have a cup of coffee, alone. Sitting in the coffee shop, among young boys and girls in their early mating rituals I ordered a cafe mocha and waited. It was a deliberate move - this stepping out of office; with a notebook. It was supposed to be constructive. Ultimately it was. Perhaps. In some manner. Though not the way it was supposed to be. These are the outcomes:
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After every brief eon
we come back to this space.
Facing each other,
With raised eyebrows.
One doesn't know the questions,
The other doesn't have the answers.
Thus, we circle each other,
Me and myself.
Thus we dance the dance of life.
And death?
Death seems so distant today,
Death seems so difficult.
So scary, so scary, that
It seems I have
Lost the love for life.
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It's so important to write something
with a meaning; a simple meaning.
It's so important to do something
with an objective; a clear objective.
It's so important to say something
which everyone understands; in their
own narrow language.
It's so important to...............................
..............................................................
The burden of importance is Fatal
Fatal
Fatal and boring
The burden to be meaningful
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