Chaos. Order.
I shall not be contained.
I shall not be placed in a jar of ether and labeled by you
or any of your other scientific junkies,
bent on details, details, details...
when I follow my nose to tell me the simplest things are the most effective...
and you swim laps and laps and laps back and forth in the same pool of thought
looking for something on the bottom that just isn't there.
How is it you just don't... understand?!
You complicate and complicate and complicate
and just dig your grave deeper
when you could simplify
and soar like an inspired eagle.
Your head
is like the little black box in an airplane.
Keeps getting fed information
and it circulates around and around...
and it's oh so important.
But... isn't it... just a little bit... small?
You know, compared to the rest of the plane?
But it has to be there.
For safety, for comfort, for questions...
it has to be there.
However...
Does anyone even really realize that it's there
<
as they hop off to Brazil or Denmark or Southern California?
And you think it's an insult.
I can see your face, riddled with anger and wet n' thirsty rage.
And you think it's an insult.
To have a designated place, time and purpose...
you think that's the grandest insult of all. But it's not.
It never WAS.
Because you know, even pure chaos has order.
And at heart, order is really just educated chaos.
You want to know what I think?
I just think you've been around too long.
An extra hundred years won't hurt, you thought...
but it did.
Everything got dusty and dull.
And you thought I was dusty and dull like everything else
and thought you could treat me as such.
I'm a cold, calculating son of a bitch`
and I care about everything so much more than you know.
But how can something be two things at once?
Order AND chaos?
Heads AND tails?
And it's just
so
simple.
And I feel so sad for you
because you'll never, ever get it
and your life will be wasted.
Back.