Who's gonna rock you when the sun won't let you sleep?
My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while. I'm two, and both keep their distance - Siamese twins that aren't attached, and scream into the void, where their words can be twisted into any shape. Where their promises can be made to lull the heart and seduce the soul, for in the final analysis, words mean nothing. They are labels we give things in an effort to wrap our brains around their underlying natures, when the totality of its nature is an entirely different beast. The wisest among us is the silent one. Examine his actions. Judge him by them.
