weirdo writes things

Our Misdirection Instruction We always put our necks on the line to insult everyone who loves us. While it is always clear who is the leader, You is never the reader. We talk and talk about those in our lives but give them all the same name. Because a nameless name leads straight to fame, so You is never the reader. Do our garrulous Yous have all the same weight as our Yous of eloquence? It’s hard to tell but it’s usually so that You is never the reader. So why do we follow along their lines if epithet and praise is on faces of dimes? Do we followers become those leaders so that You can never be the reader?

The Grave of the Stonekeeper The grave of the Stonekeeper marks our end in paradox He places the stones at the finale of every story but his, so Can he truly ever end? The Stonekeeper knows his lid will not be capped despite being filled He knows there is no punctuation on humanity Even if all and him are long gone His job a sombre one, but necessary Nobody to remember, Nobody to shed a tear At the kindness of the Stonekeeper Until the cell divides many years; The Earth growing and rotting, Restoring to the roots of Everytree. A new Human arises from these divided cells Though it is different, unknowingly. Exploring a new, broken world, This creature among her friends Discovers the bones of the old grave. The Stonekeeper’s purpose is unmarked and unfound, Even an archeological genius is unfit to find the lowdown. New Humanity breeds its cities, its world. Every essential metal recrafted. Even here, decades pass in few pages, The true details left only to those who witness. But it will ...