The yardstick always catches up with you. The yardstick grows with you...with every feet gained and keeps adding yards long after you've stopped, a vulgar "outgrowth". Then it just rams itself up your exit door...without warning...unwelcome...sending you crashing down.Well, now whats all this got to do with the cockroach? The Caackrotch (like a certain scarface-al-pac-apone would say) has got no yardstick. The proverbial surviver, in its dark space, mocking at everything else thats done time on this planet. A discerning listener can hear them whisper at night: "there's the freak...we gonna outlive this one too..." drowned in a whispered snigger.
Now do we really need to compete with the cockroach or gracefully exit the scene like all great creatures have before us. Every species meets its culmination in extinction - thats the universal law except the slimy motherfuckers of course - le Cockaraacha. For all u might know, cockroaches may be the damn thing called conscience that roams the planet or the guardian "angels" of the damn planet.I can think of loads of theories on how the cockroaches are behind everything that happens around us, but i save the roaches for another day.
And so what did i do to the cockroach - in my shoe ? Well... i stepped on it and i will untill i can... cause u know they would live to tell the tale in another era.
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3 comments:
*stunned*
Curious to know what the theories are
watch this space...
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