I watch the candy-store children belch and whine and run amok on the once abandoned playground. They're children no longer. Now they're just waddling monstrosities. Paunchy, distended bellies and dirty, unkempt hair. They wail to one another in voices shrill with entitlements. Not one of them listens to anything another one has to say unless it's complimentary or confirmatory. They snap and break and mangle the sandbox fixtures, and then bitch at the shoddy craftsmanship. But no jungle gym or slide is built to endure the punishment they bring so carelessly.
They think their rage and obsolescence can transform the world if they vomit it out hard enough, instead of seeking consonance and improvement from within.
They never learned that happiness cannot be given or taken. They would change the whole world before they would change themselves.
8:48 p.m. - 2014-11-11
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