There is no originality, get that through
Your head right now. Your thoughts are
Not your own and never have been.
Your brain’s six billion years in the making.
The clump of electrified flesh floating
Around in your skull doesn’t remember
Those billions of years, but it feels them,
All those shallow steps into the future.
It recalls the way mud felt on our stubby
Fingertips as we traced shapes on rough
Cave walls; it remembers how a club
Felt the first time we made something
Bleed. It remembers the taste of meat
And the yellow pain of fire. It remembers
Distant drumming; it remembers the crack
Of the whip cutting flesh while we dragged
Slabs of granite. It remembers Shakespeare
And Mozart. It constantly relives all the
Important moments like ingrained muscle
Memory, and brushes away all the dog
Farts. What it remembers the best, however,
Is that it’s all been done before and done
Does it matter?
Say to yourself whatever you need to say,
Make whatever you want and do it without
Originality is overrated.
Evening Soundtrack: Mozzy