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these last days have shown me that
all of our accomplishments are rather petty
statues made with the smoke of eternal trees
and
everything we took for granted can (and will)
turn into a farce
become a farce
reshape a farce
be a farce
(either fast or slow, does it really matter - I solemnly ask,
without raising a finger into a Zoom meeting filled with background noise and lag)
these last days have shown that the difference between theory and practice
is plenty
almost unbridgeable and unexplainable
a riddle for all of us to collectively pour our hearts and minds and soul and will and desire and lust and anxiety and depression and euphoria and all of our clumsy thoughts
fuelled by either a lack and+or a mixture of all of the above,
obviously to no avail.
not that it is not solvable (for it is quite so, I believe)
; it is that the results shall be disappointing
Sisyphus wondering if his cough comes from an inner undying desire to do so
or if he is just nervous being around people his whole life flashing before his mouth and cheap mask
Tiago D. Dias
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