and in another time

i've been taciturn in thoughts and words of late. something, of what i have no inkling, is holding me back. and also, it doesn't do when whatever possible introspective remnants still lurking between my ears more often than not dissipate at the very point of articulation - pen and tongue alike. but we all try, don't we? just as we all try our utmost to look good, to get rich, to get ahead of our fellow minnows, to grab as much as our plebeian lives can accomodate. sometimes, we masochistically gorge ourselves to the nth in the deluded wish that our happiness would be thus satiated, only to spend nth spewing our guts into the sewage. oh how we hate our guts, and they rightly should be condemned to the newater plant. this chimera of bravado is what drives us to pursue unattainable dreams, to try to be ourselves by losing ourselves. and then we wonder why we are unhappy? naturally from here, we either wear a cloak of cynicism and sneer and smirk. or we slip on a smiling countenance and think we are actually really happy people. but the worst is to descend ourselves into spouting hackneyed aphorisms in a masturbatory fantasy of alleviating our banal existence. because it doesn't, and we can do without such pseudo-philosophical pretensions. to start with, they are not even originals. and before an august audience start rolling eyes and sharpening your feline tongues at me, i'd better hold my own. i really wanted to just say i had been rather quiet of late. and looking at this verbal diarrhoea, perhaps, taciturn thoughts and laconic words aren't really a bad thing after all.