Shock and Clock.


Stop the clock, stop this feeling of shock, stop my irrational thoughts, stop my persisting grief. Grieving for griefs sake, when no event has come to pass, there is no grief to bare. Fill the empty space with memories, let my memories become written stories, write it now, or else how will I remember. Holding onto those things that can’t be controlled, caught up in clutter, falling in the distractions of the things and the stuff, all to consume and abuse my body to be well-groomed, for the mindless conversations of our daily rotations. Living in limbo-land, progression is stagnant here, nothing can move until the big mover shakes, then we can begin to change, and come to their aid. Sorry to be vague, but it’s moments of complete upside down, where I feel I could drown in my own pit of tears and fears for the future of their living years. It’s the obvious guess, yes, for three years, but we’re positive, we can get through this. Positive they say, I’d be positively thrilled never to hear that word again.


Nothing can move until the big mover shakes.

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