Circus Of Human Life
© Surazeus
2018 09 06
The young man sitting at the small wood desk,
fingers hovering over typewriter keys,
stares out the window at the city traffic,
and thinks about the swirl of human life
to catch one weird detail about the soul
and describe with tricky jumble of words
intricate weirdness of our mental games
that would spark complex tale about our lives.
Each detail he would choose to weave his tale
discounts many other facts just as good
that flash across the multiverse of action,
so any tale that accounts for all aspects
of human interaction would display
infinite jest of our indifferent world.
Conflict between desires of different people
sparks energy that fuels interesting stories
to generate the fire of happiness
which results from clash of opposing wills
resolved by compromise of sympathy.
The young man walks over to rusty fridge
and stares at sparse items of food to eat,
then plucks last bottle of root beer to drink,
and leans against the window frame to sip
sweet liquid that fizzles on his parched tongue
as he watches people walk on the street.
"My mother wanted me to study banking,
but calculations of numbers are boring.
I want to understand psychology
that operates how human beings interact,
then present the process of mental thoughts
through careful arrangement of beaming words
that people must express to other people
in their searches for the pleasures of life.
Anybody can calculate cash flow
but writers will calculate memory flow."
Remembering when he was still the young boy
riding his bike all over the small town
where he grew up before his father died,
the writer sits down at his small wood desk
and begins clacking keys on the typewriter
to capture impressions of his mind in words.
The writer in the city of lost souls
composes long novel about his childhood
that explores the circus of human life.
© Surazeus
2018 09 06
The young man sitting at the small wood desk,
fingers hovering over typewriter keys,
stares out the window at the city traffic,
and thinks about the swirl of human life
to catch one weird detail about the soul
and describe with tricky jumble of words
intricate weirdness of our mental games
that would spark complex tale about our lives.
Each detail he would choose to weave his tale
discounts many other facts just as good
that flash across the multiverse of action,
so any tale that accounts for all aspects
of human interaction would display
infinite jest of our indifferent world.
Conflict between desires of different people
sparks energy that fuels interesting stories
to generate the fire of happiness
which results from clash of opposing wills
resolved by compromise of sympathy.
The young man walks over to rusty fridge
and stares at sparse items of food to eat,
then plucks last bottle of root beer to drink,
and leans against the window frame to sip
sweet liquid that fizzles on his parched tongue
as he watches people walk on the street.
"My mother wanted me to study banking,
but calculations of numbers are boring.
I want to understand psychology
that operates how human beings interact,
then present the process of mental thoughts
through careful arrangement of beaming words
that people must express to other people
in their searches for the pleasures of life.
Anybody can calculate cash flow
but writers will calculate memory flow."
Remembering when he was still the young boy
riding his bike all over the small town
where he grew up before his father died,
the writer sits down at his small wood desk
and begins clacking keys on the typewriter
to capture impressions of his mind in words.
The writer in the city of lost souls
composes long novel about his childhood
that explores the circus of human life.
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