lyoz's Journal: a mermon sermon

Look at the people. These people. The Who's and You's and I's. Familiar with each other, and various colors. All breathe and breed, all hail some-who. All have names, and shades- yet refer to 'em .... as 'them' or 'these'.

Often you feel related. (You, and not I.)
The sense of superiority, of similarity, it vanishes and hyper-ventilates and denigrates and segregates. Briefly, Try to save it, and get stronger without risk and might. Get drunk with disease and power. Get told and work with care and effort to reach the end.

Does this become a mermon sermon? With repeat glory, the performance re-enters the stage- from behind the old dirty curtains. I stand up and applause, the first one... take the lead and everyone follows. We clap and clap and clap as she deseves a standing ovation, a million stars and hellish flowers.

This as ever... becomes predictable. I write, they keep whispering and urging me on. She waits and makes it to the other side. Without fear and worry, without desire of glory, without I...