Something

Something needs to be written and something needs to be done and something and something, and something. Your brain is a like a zombie with nothing making sense and you don’t know what to think or what to say or what to do but you know very well that something needs to be done and something needs to be said. You walk and walk in the afternoon sun. And you wonder why are you doing it. Is it worth the trouble to shout at someone to say something needs to be done? But nobody gives a damn you are on your own and you are all alone and nobody says a thing but you know that something needs to be said and something needs to be done but where are the words and where are the deeds. So you walk on, climb up and sweat it out but for what- a word, a deed that is too late and now anyway seems too inadequate but you still walk on and climb up because you know that something needs to be done and something needs to be said and you begin to wonder if it is worth the effort. But still you walk on and climb up and meet dumb faces and vacant eyes devoid of any intelligence and you wonder whether it was here that you expected to hear that something and get that something done and still you persist because you know that something needs to be said and something needs to be done. Do zombies speak or do things until and unless they are controlled by a power far superior to them? You ponder and labour and the blisters on you toes start to rankle reminding you that these sandals aren’t the best of companions for such an errand. But you persist nevertheless because when something needs to be said and something needs to be done then pain, anger, hurt, misery, disbelief, shame, pride and kindness all need to be disregarded and the focus is only on that which needs to be said and that which needs to be done. And so you ponder and so you think and then you look up and wonder what are you doing here? A voice whispers about something that needed to be said and something that needed to be done. Yes, you agree but what was it?