September 10, 2011
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Certainty
If you wanted it to
Life could dwindle down to certainty
Stress comes from not knowing what is out there
And trying to accomplish the task at hand
It is why humans type stereos
while handwriting obituaries
It makes the intolerable, tolerableStress is what kills people
It just takes time
And cells that are finally tired enough
To stop replicating
Or pissed off enough
To replicate with reckless abandonI am dying an undignified death
Comments (13)
sorry you are croaking ... are you typing or handwriting your obit? or was this it?
I was thinking to myself and wondering what the point was with fighting...I think when you have nothing, then fighting just isn't worth it...but when you have something to fight for, then it's different.
Either way, I honestly think that the world has become skewed in such a way that there isn't anything to fight for any longer, and those who champion something, anything....are perhaps destined to die a ignominious death.
As long as you don't die wearing bicycle shorts, you won't be completely bereft of dignity.
me too Nelson. me too. I like this poem.
I like that, it's very cleverly written.
Stress is what makes us strong. Distress is what kills us! Hope you can prevent the needle from swinging into the red...
Some very nice turns of phrase here. But seriously - do you want things to be easy and knowable? To die wishing life had been that is indeed undignified.
"He not busy being born is busy dying." Shabtai Zisel ben Avraham
@ThePrince - If you have nothing, then fight. Voila - you have something to fight for.
@Six_Days_Divided_by_Blondville - Im fighting with my cable provider right now because I can't get reception for today's football games! *shakes fist in air righteously*
@Six_Days_Divided_by_Blondville - In the long term sure that is fine and dandy but in short term uncertainty is incredibly difficult...one has to keep making decisions...and when the timeline is incredibly short to make those and your livelihood depends on it the situation changes...
What I speak of is a force that consumes, the other side of virtuosity...obligations to pull through for others on, the sometimes crushing weight of responsibility...
@saintvi - I think that I will be buried in my bicycle shorts...
@murisopsis - Sure...I can live with that definition
@Smokin_SultrySally - Thank you dear...that last line felt like it had been written before...but I googled it and found nothing...
@ThePrince - eh, becoming a 'number' is kind of how I feel sometimes, but not the end goal of this poem...it is more a reflection of stress and not being able to come to a decision...
@windupherskirt - typing stereos...stereotypes...
@HereLiesNelsontheGreat - Oh, I had the same question about typing stereos. Duh.
My dad or father-in-law (one of those old guys) said that everyone who eats pickles, dies.
@Roadkill_Spatula - That could be another verse...
I need to let pass that the lot you pronounce is exact
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