redundancy is the unspoken word we sometimes take for granted, and when it starts to itch for your attention, you have no choice but to give it a little pat on the head and say, "look, you’ve no place in this world. go back to that sunken space where you belong." redundancy nods, its eyes burning yours, and goes back to its rightful place. you take note of its problems, the nights when redundancy plays with your hair with such gusto that you start to fear for your hair, the moment when it raises its hand in haste to solve the problem for you, taking your defeated piece of chalk and writing its own solutions, proud that it made your life a little easier just this one time. yeah, redundancy sure is something. you say, "thanks. now can i have my chalk back?" — only this time the chalk is no more, escaping redundancy’s hand like mad fireflies playing in the night. you get mad, you forget the things you said, and redundancy is no more.
Leave a Reply