"There's nothing constant except change,"
they say, trying to make everything feel better
but sometimes in my head I need the quiet repetition
of routine and constancy.
The constant swirling and whirling is all reaction
not planned, not contrived as a brilliant strategic
masterminded plot to improve, but rather knee-jerk
reactive to stimuli without any forethought.
By now, we should know. We should accept.
The real geniuses never make it if they don't fake it
Maybe they can't. Maybe they won't.
Maybe they do and know it I don't.
It's been some days and some days more
since I tried to understand the score.
But now the pattern starts to make sense.
It isn't about the change itself, it never was.
The real maxim that we've come to learn
is buried in the actions of those that follow.
"There's nothing constant except"
the reaction of those unprepared to make a change.
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