Renounce

Aren't we all numbers?
Yours two and two and eight and eight
I'm two more and two less than it
Aren't we all lovers?
You and your fullness
Me and my brokenness
Aren't we all wanderers?
Two steps forward, one step right
One more ahead, and I stopped on high
Aren't we all strings?
You bow yours, I strum mine
You lift a melody, I chord mine
Aren't we all believers?
You and your hands, hands and nose
Me and me eyes, eyes and thoughts

Yes we are, and no we are not.
Not, in the sense of now.
Not, in regard of tomorrow.

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Written Sunday, at the very corner of my friends's room, on a cozy sofa, William Fitzsimmons on borrowed iPod (kinda hate Chris Brown With You is next in order, and I have to click previous, but then the intro has got in and kinda ruin the mood set by Fitzsimmons), but not at all gloom and doom. No, you got it wrong. Its actually the opposite.

From me. To nobody. I just had this sudden creative juice that I need to spill. But that means something to me though. Haha. Now I got you pondering again. I'm gonna leave it at that. ;p

Smile on, shine on.
Rubs