talk talk talk

Hi again, No one!
Anyone out there? Never mind, I can just sit here, assuming that this blog is reaching somebody as I feel productive like an accomplished writer.
                                  What an entertaining thought, "productivity"...Here on planet Canada, it's summer time. Apparently this means I have no energy. Whatsoever, at any time, ever. I am a blob of blonde goo wilting off of a decomposing log into a puddle, deep within a Scandinavian forest that no one will ever bother to discover.
           Deep eh?
You're probably looking at your computer screen while sneering and thinking, "ew, bitch thinks she's funny or some shit."
                                              Just read the damn poem.
That's all I want. In the mean time i'll live in ignorant Canadian successful bliss, signing autographs on the back of my notebooks.. repeatedly...
The title and subject of this piece combined with the extensive rant I've included here provide for some pretty spiffy irony. That's all I have to say.

Talk Talk Talk, 
   Why must we talk so much? 
Do we really have
                 so much to say 
that it surpasses the need for action? 

I see you love to talk, and to have your 
    opinions known. 
                   But have we 
ever thought, that perhaps all our 
             talk, simply dissipates
as hot air into the smog? 

With all this talk we're built up so high,
as our voices battle 
                    towards the sky. 
We discuss our beliefs, yet then sigh with 
                  relief as we 
tip our hats to another 
                 problem solved. 

And better still is when we 
  protest and scream whilst 
      living in luxury
that our government is for the dogs.

Would you still so heavily speak 
of unfair tax
between sipping wine from 
a crystal glass 
if you knew of the ignorant stench 
that rises from your tongue? 

You have not been to Hell and back, 
Hell will not be frozen by your arrogant 
     talk of empathy and your lack 
                                 of
                                   tact. 

No, your talk heeds nothing, 
save for the illusion that you're  
               helping somebody. 

But alas we still 
      chat, avidly catapulting 
our ideas into space - their 
               absence of gravity 
reflecting our lack 
     of ambition and grace.

Change begins when we talk, but 
does nothing when we 
                    talk 
          without 
                  stop. 

And as the world cries we forget 
     to refute the lie that said 
that something ever came 
                from nothing.