"All your life, is just a shame, shame, shame..."

Spindles and spindles of twine. No beginning, no end, so it seems. Some twine dark. Some twine light. Some twine clean and some not so much. Some twine entangled with other twine. Some twine totally seperate. Yeah, some twine totally seperate. Some twine knows where it's going. Some twine has not idea. Some much twine. The numbers boogle my mind. The randomness, the pointlessness, the intrically woven pattern, and the confusion.
Each twine a person in time. Each twine randomly strung through this factory of "life". Yet, in this barn of string, i am merely a six inch piece of rope wondering where i jump in.

"All your love, is just a dream, dream, dream..."

A record of my thoughtless thoughts spread upon the canvas of a computer screen.
Pointless renditions of a boy unmaking sense of a unsesical making. So...


What actually is the problem?


Oops.


I don't know.

Shalom.