Business as usual. Usual is business. I like to dance.

One thousand stories...

The taste in my mouth has grown old. I am ready. I first glimpsed, then starred into those eyes. It was if one thousand stories were thrown into the abyss, never to be told. It was ironic. Here I was, waiting, yet the walls never came crashing down. It was if I were seeing life flash before me, but it wasn't mine. Have I not lived? Have I not loved? Is this some cruel joke? Give me my pen. Give me my thought. I shall tell it once again...recording it all this time...the mundane, the righteous, nothing able to escape my grip. Wait! What was that? A fleeting memory? The mind held to it only but for a split second. A complete vision...yes, I saw it vividly. Where's my pen?

It's gone.