apollo

I can hear it. Sorta. I couldn't repeat it. That'd likely fix the whole problem. Well, that seems too easy. I at least think it would fix everything. Likely I'd just be introduced to the next step. Its kinda like, well no that's not right. Its, well, there. Somewhere back there. Turn my head and its still just back there. Behind me. Couldn't say if its there to mock or to push or to crush. Okay, that's not true. I know what its there to do. And do it does, I'm just deaf. And dumb. Mostly the dumb.

Funny how the ifs come in. If I could just fathom... If I could just find the image of it. Gotta love the ifs. Its the human way of saying it won't happen, it can't happen and in the end it ain't my fault, so stick it in your ear, and rumble me up some pity when you've fished that out of there and I'm really sorry for putting it there but the world's out to get me so I've gotta fight back some way and you ear was looking at me funny. As you can see ifs create run-on sentences and now you see the true evil at the heart of every if. They distract us with their winds and lights. Their flickers entertain us in our chains. Sorry Plato but it makes me look edjookated.

Thats where we like to run though because the other direction scares us. Its like teaching my ears to see the sun while my eyes hear the cold in the free-bound river. Yet its how I'm made. The words are wordless and the images are vivid gray. I can't paint. Heck crayons are my bane. Pencil and ink can find an image that stares at me. But that glimpse through brush, light through a squint, it hounds me in its ungraspableness. That's right, you get a stupid word to describe you, take that. Okay taunting doesn't seem to work. I'll just have to outsmart my adversary. I'm doomed.

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