Sitting On The Beach

June 13th, 1998

No matter how much I understand the waves
I can never become like them
Even the patience of the seagull waiting
for my scraps outlives my own
The moving water attracts me
because nothing matters to it
No beach is a wall forever
and time holds no meaning
to what passes for the patience of waves
At times I think to become them by joining them
but I know I would not be accepted
only moved aside
and turned into someone else's grief
one more burden I don't need
A person without emotion is said to be dead
criticized for their abnormality
How much more like the waves can you be?
What could contain such a person?
What makes emotion such a god?
What difference does god make to the waves?
I'm out here somewhere

The Extra

Sunny Day