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the smell of donuts

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ms. wilson sings, "follow your road"
but she left out the part about forks

so all this time
breathing moves from moment to moment
from day to evening
from dream to alarm
from tea to tea

and all the while...

i go in circles
they go in lines
i go around
they go up
i have dreams
they have goals
my dreams don't match my location
their goals define their location
i wait for my destiny to fall out of the sky like a big bowl of jell-o
they make their jell-o and eat it like wolves
i cope
they create
i hope
they know
all i do is out of faith
all they do comes out of self-confidence
i'm a shadow
they're a sun
i'm a vapor
they're a rock
i'm detached
they're above

so goes the great absurdity

ms. wilson sings,
"and maybe one day your road will take you far away..."

© 2000 (6 july) john r. chase

here lies the beginning of the end of all i am. this is where i once and for all choose to either be consumed in the fire and emerge like pure gold in the image of my redeemer, or go on making mud pies and clawing at the bank as i try to not slip into the black, merky waters. more confused than before? good.

We are half-hearted creatures, fooling around with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.

C.S. Lewis - The Weight of Glory