Flat White. We are the product of our hesitations.
Deer in the headlights, focused
more on the impending doom
than on what drives it towards us.
We are clinging on to the refusal to choose
as if
it's a modern cure for all our
modern ailments.
I've never felt alone in my indecision.
Always, I had some companions:
this or that,
one or the other.
It's never lonely when the Universe stands still.
But when it's starts moving again,
there you are, you and you alone.
Because that car, the one with the headlights?
Someone else chose to move it,
to steer it your way,
Full speed ahead.
We are the product of other people's decisions.
