Quiet Life

Karen says
I want to fill myself with noise until I don’t hear a thing,
I want to be filled with things until I don’t see anything,
I want anything that isn’t real to fill me,
Come here and feel me,
Come here emptiness,
Fill me.

I just want a quiet life,
No more noise and no more strife,
No more truth and no more lies
Just a bunch of gray areas,
Strangely made up of black and white,
Give me a quiet life.

John says,
Karen you used to be so passionate,
I can’t believe you no longer care to opine or comment,
Like how in 1979 when we were in a dash,
To protest cash for arms and arms for cash,
We wrote poetry; we exclaimed,
That we would give both of our arms if it gave us the cash,
Needed to buy our freedom from these arms back,
And we would give all of our cash,
To buy these arms and tie them to a train track,
So they can be out of the reach of every legislator yet still in their sight,
So they could see the pain they might cause,
Yet could never cause that pain outright…

But now you say you just want a quiet life?
A life of no truth and just noise,
A life where we are only filled with noise,
No more senses to make sense out of anything,
You used to be so different, Karen,
You used to have meaning.

John, I hear what you’re saying,
But look how exhausted you look,
I know you think you are making change,
But really you are just a quarter taking up a quarter centimeter of a bottomless lake,
No matter what you do,
You can’t control your fate,
It’s all scripted,
Puppets on a string,
There’s bags under your eyes, John,
Gauging them out is the only way to see true beauty.

I’ll take a quiet life,
No noise yet everything is noise,
No voids yet everything is a void,
My vices are my virtues,
And my virtues are vices,
A mind is a terrible thing to waste,
But a beautiful thing to get wasted,
No more strife,
A quiet life.

John obliged,
I always feel like my passions will be the reason I die,
John obliged,
There will no longer be any black holes in my mind,
I won’t be swallowed whole any more,
By the complexities of the outside world,
Fill me with noise,
I never want to hear again,
Paint me black,
I never want to think of the gray again,
I will no longer be suffering.

Sold out because I’m selling myself,
No more strife,
Give me a quiet life.


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