It’s because it feels like All the Things have already been…said.

There are no new thoughts. No new thoughts.

(This is probably not a new thought.)

This is why there are no new blawg posts.

What’s in a blog? that which we call a thought/ By any other name would smell as sweet.

Revelations are different now. A shade gray-er than they used to be, but don’t think “depressing.” Maybe it feels like oldpeoplegrayhairs-gray. Which…I’m not sure how to describe without sounding depressing or trite or self-consciously “[un]wise.” Even the thoughts that make my heart warm and eyes sparkle and soul feel nourished and good

feel old, and well-worn. If not by me, then certainly by many thinkers, many iterations, many ages. Many yesterdays.

I glide along tracks worn smooth, bone-white,

yeah, hood of bone,

or just bone-headed.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s