The Product of My Anxiety

If some how

Some way

Time could be stopped

Even for a moment

I think I would be okay

Everything keeps moving in fast forward

While I stand in a crowd of people rewinding my life

On an old VHS

No one knows where they’re going

They don’t even know the direction they’re heading

All they have are the gnarled corners of old Polaroids

And the jumps on the old vinyl albums that they’ve been listening to for years

The wind is blowing hard

Hard enough to blow the recyclable coffee cups

Of the recyclable people

Sitting on the patios of the chain coffee shops

There is no substance in the world

If you’re looking for originality

You’re in the wrong time period

If I could read minds

A fourth of this world would be thinking of ideas

That have already been thought of

And the other three fourths

Well they’d probably be thinking of sex

Maybe the world would be a better place

If we all sunk into oblivion

To a place where time doesn’t exist

And the constant racing thoughts

Cease to exist

 

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