Saturday, 22 May 2010

A walk-on part in a cage.




Years ago, you made a choice. Against the current; against the grain; staring right into the sun. Putting on your rebel shades. Flaunting your mutinous tattoo. Walking straight down the Floydian path.

Long down the untrodden road, at a point of no return, the fallacy dawned. Turns out, what you thought was your world was but a Truman show. A cage controlled by puppet masters with no strings attached. There was never a lead role. There was never a war.


4 comments:

Y? said...

nice! I relate to this.

mentalie said...

and it was so much more comfortable to sip your old monk and go with the flow.

Flickering Cursor said...

@Y?: Tx for dropping by. Curious about the name though. WHY?

@mentalie: Aaah. Old Monk. Brings back memories of stronger intestinal days.

jandy said...

rebel without a cause - now with a pause? :P sorry,