…being understood… wasn’t it just so nice… simply being understood, like there’s nothing else… wasn’t it beautiful to feel like someone knows your name… do you know my name? I don’t feel like you know my name…
…yesterday… staring at yet another screen… soon someone would press the button yet again, and the emptiness in my eyes would be caught among smiling faces… so many pictures… don’t I know that face? The face of a child, I had lost behind the beard… the face of a child, I had lost in countless say-cheese smiles…
…not angry… there’s nothing to be angry about… no one knows my name… no one plays my game… does that make me feel special? Not being understood… listen to the drone… so unchanging… listen to the drone… so comforting… listen to the drone… it’s a fluid world… sometimes the flow forgets to forget… sometimes the flow folds in on itself… again and again… listen to this drone… so lifeless, so deathless… somewhere in the perfect between… it’s a fluid world… but sometimes it forgets to forget…
being understood was nice… not being understood, a sad comforting drone… the world folding in on itself… can’t see you, can feel you… strange friend…
Story Of The Footloose 
what even is in a name? it is only a sound that someone else picked to call us by isn’t it? I would much rather be felt then named but I guess that is just me 😉 I read this here today and feel like I just won such a prize, my sweet friend. Reading you is always a true joy. ❤
Prashant,
So good to hear from you and to have you read my post too. i always look for your post. Sometimes the words trouble me, the images are always fascinating. Your touch is real.
Holly
Angel in the dust