monomeggy

I am a fool, a self-styled artist who claims no wisdom but plays at seer. I'll tell you where I'm going and what it means, but I'll fail to explain to you why I'm here. I see the currents that we all churn up and revel happily in their wake. With pen in hand, I catalog and quip, twirled and senseless as the assertions I make. Ethereal threads of consequence overlooked I take in hand, I laugh, and I weave. Drunk on wonder I sleep within my loom, peacefully overwhelmed by what I perceive. When I wake I'll find you staring, holding but a beat before moving along. I'll not forget our meeting, nor its lessons-- I only hope that your

Video Games Pop in a disc, lean on back. My mouth drops open, my arms go slack. The only part of me that shows life is my hands, which feverishly labor to defend mythical lands, Or to destroy an alien race, or to put an item back in its place. People try to reach me from their mortal plane, but I neither hear them, nor feel their pain. Even still, I consider this experience priceless, I'll keep playing video games 'till I fall lifeless.