Ironies, songs, paintings, memes, gifs, words. Symbols.
I'll give mine, you give yours.
We all play this game.
Communicating, dialoguing.
I was born myopic, I could never play.
I'd move the racket around, hoping to find the ball.
Desperate, lost, angry, young boy.
But, you lack a sense, you get another.
I can't see symbols, but I can hear their sounds.
I count the tics and the tacs.
Sometimes, I even feel the rhythm of the game.
But, there's Heisenberg, uncertainty principle.
You're a machine, unprecise, you miscalculate
Direction, speed, strength, momentum.
Ran by standard deviation, never a player.
Mine is not a game of consensus, predictable, smooth.
It's a game of strength, chaotic, intense.
A rollercoaster in itself.