justnick's Diaryland Diary

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Jehova's witness, eh? Funny, your mother didn't strike me as particularly religious last night...

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord. Cynics on a cynic, mine eyes are not impressed. I nod, and smile politely, though I'm frankly rather bored; 'just stop thinking for yourself, young man, the Church will do the rest.' So I retreat into my head just to have a look around, because you never know when inspiration might be found. I poke and prod my mind, to see if art can be coerced, and I'd have written something too, but idle hands spin idle verse. So I stand here with remorseful thoughts that won't leave me alone, they're the only ones I've got, though, so I let them feel at home. The repentance of a sinner, (or perhaps the cloudy day) but since I'm stuck here until dinner, doesn't matter either way. Though I may try to be a poet, to my friends I shall remain... Just Nick, the man who lives inside a song with no refrain.

Next life, I'm coming back an Oompa Loompa. Excelsior.

6:41 p.m. - 2004-07-27

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