Echoes Below

A point. Deceptive to the cause. I wanted to be alone. I crush and falter to flatter. And here we are. Now where do we go? You make it sound so easy. I wish I knew what to do. Pick up pieces and seek around. Document old failings. Be familiar. Your dreams are ever-fading in the plot lines of your tired story. I find. I destroy. Same old, same old. Conversations have familiar structures. The constructs of familiar mechanisms. It's you who is, isn't it? Or do I find myself running by the old shame. Take the pictures with you. Everything felt flimsy, you were guided by whimsy. I don't know anymore. Everything feels like an agenda creeping up. I've given up on the things I used to like. When is the time? What is the hour? The minutes of the agenda are restless in resting. I am the secret of an old enigma that's been given away. I sell myself at a price. You make do. Accept someone who isn't. I look at the catalogue with a twinge of regret. It never ends. Rep...

An Irish family go on a foreign TV game show acting out bits and pieces of a theatrical show in a language they don't understand. They try their best but a woman interrupts their attempts by saying "You're Irish, you wouldn't understand!" Since the language is French, the following is said "Si vous comprenez, alors voila, félicitations!" They get to the next level of the show where the youngest decides to take a short cut up a tree that's inside a building and presses a button that's to the side of a cage. A mechanical Santa comes up with a deranged smile carries a list. His recorded voice intones "Congratulations, by pressing this button you will have to wait until next Christmas." The mother cries "You can't just leave him here!"