Sometimes I shock myself how cynical I can be.

It’s October 17, 2011. My brother’s birthday is the following day, my little sister’s the day after that. My memory is fuzzy on this one, but my guess is that something had happened between myself and Mr. Nameless. (To clarify, so far there has been Mr. Shameless and Mr. Nameless. More to come when I get enough sleep to think of monikers. Tee hee.) I  tend to overthink things (of course) and I felt compelled to versalize (I know that’s not a word, but hey) my uneasiness for whatever reason. And then it flourished into something deeper, it seems. I am not sure.

I may extend this, so perhaps it’s more like a snippet right now?

________

“Unrest”

It’s the rumble in the jungle
It’s the plague in the lake
It’s the shock that makes your heart quake
It’s the lead on the evening news
That makes Mama head for the booze
Tear the mattress, dig up the jar
Chill hits no matter who you are

Here comes the unrest

Extra, extra—here’s the headline
While we’re gaping we’re losing time
The hole’s spreading before we prepare
The wrong man’s in the electric chair
And you’re worried about weave in your hair
At the barest sign of any ill
You’re calling the doctor for a refill

Here comes the unrest