Eras end, Begin again. Money, lovers, Promises are pretend. 30 is old age -- You plan to kill yourself, Or be far away by then. Try so hard To make a name, But they forget Again and again. Change your mind, Change your style, Your politics, philosophy. A punk, a hippie, A model on the cover of a magazine. Alone or lonely, '91 or '65 A better story. Your Gods are dead, And Jesus ain’t your friend. No one calls. Connection's gone. Looking for the other, Floating past each other, Duck and cover. Empty-headed, absent-minded Lost forever, we are blinded. What it means to hold a hand, What it means to be free,
What it is to see beyond The illusion of reality.
These Days, by Nina Ljeti