To wade

Ravenous! Ravenous. It is just a feeling dressed onto a word. It is just a state of paralysis. It is just the constant struggle of survival. It is all about still not knowing how to breathe, and it is still all about the denial of pleasure.

I wade and waddle in the incongruence of this planet and its inebriated inhabitants. Too many of them, too many pieces of incoherent information, too much linearity: no knowledge and no hope of understanding. 

It breaks me each and every time. It does. I wade and waddle, and reach to fix the broken. I fail often.

To walk

I am tired of wishing. I am tired of running away. I am tired.

To run

To evade reality is my goal and my whole reason to exist. If life is anything else other than pure imagination, I want nothing to do with it.
I remember now my little sister. She decided that this life was not worth living, and one Summer night she put an end to her life. I remember my sister and wonder what wisdom she had tried to impart on me with her letter of departure.
It's coming back to me. It is is very chemical.

On the road

Three-quarters of the way down to the impossible, I conclude that rational thought is the ultimate illusion. The alternative is that I am completely mad and beyond redemption. Either way, this is heaven.

Morning Whispers

Lies. All lies. Beautiful lies. Those are the morning alarms with harp' sounds and soft melodies. Lies! There is no urgency to the day. There is nothing that must be done. Tomorrow may never come.

Returned

There is the perennial question inquiring into my being. How are you? They ask, and I blindly respond. I respond blindly and unfiltered. I respond untouched by society. I respond. I respond and seek validation. I respond and seek acceptance. How am I? The truth in the response is illusive, ephemeral, and empty. I remain untouched by society, and seeking to touch it. The glass wall is still there. The air that I breathe is still free.