Good days seem to fail sometimes, dissolving back where they came from, replaced by dark cloud rolling on the horizon, creeping to shore like an unstoppable force. Good thing I revel in chaos. I enjoy the rain. It’s a chance for a flash of divine to take me.
Where are the hero’s journeys for us? When do we get a spotlight? I doubt I’ll see it.
Old sayings “I’m ready” “I’m worn” “wake up” echo inside, like someone shouting down a hall. Ignore them for you safety, engage them at your own risk.
Tired of days, I need a coma, let’s shake this world up a little bit. Would be fun to watch it all burn. Figments of apocalyptically euphoric dread.
Typical for me to want more, I get bored of the same game if I play for too long. Should modulate the game to refresh interest.
Still don’t buy that it’s real, haven’t in years, to a variable level of intensity.
What do you do with the kid who never learned the rules, because he may already be saved, has already seen behind the veil?
I have a hard time discrediting my own experience…noted.
Find it hard to care, find the disengagement, find the apathy. Wonder what I found.
The angels, the spirits, all the ghosts and breathing walls, all creations of my own. I wonder how far I can push my mind, find a gear I didn’t know existed. Or at least grind the box until I make my own.
Still think I’m a god trapped in a human body. That delusion is 21 years old now. The old scar still aches on days like this.
Bleat bleat yak Ooorlge, bbrrr bleat.