Finite

Quit talking about the countless millions. You have numbered them at millions and I have no doubt they could be counted if you took the time. You certainly have enough time for death tolls and dollars. These millions are not abstract. They have faces—dirty or frustrated or tired or stony or bleak or hopeful—that you carefully fade under repetition. You criticize smoke and mirrors as if you have never fogged over facts or reflected the truth at oblique angles. You are the source of indifference in the pretence of caring. I am finished with you.

3 thoughts on “Finite

  1. you just have a big mountain of inspiring, beautiful and so well-written simple words. and it is so great to find this place here.

  2. Paul – Every so often, I do get fed up enough to write about it.

    Yuri – Thanks for your kind comment. I hope you keep coming back. :)

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