(3.27.01) 3:58am

how could something be so beautiful, yet so incredibly and horribly wrong. did i mention it was dark in here? i feel like i could cut it with a knife, but i don't have any sharp ones. all i have is this pocket key chain, and it's o l d.

like my aching bones. i feel like i'm literally 800 years old. i'm prehistoric in design, yet light years ahead of all that is now. bewildered confusion, like a mental patient; slowly, steadily declining. i hear the sounds of horrified screaming; the volume decreases, like a fall.

i knew the victim. she was this sadistically demented gas station clerk, who enjoyed feeding the rats slurpies.

she was missing 8 teeth; her remaining few barley hanging on for dear life.

she had rolls upon rolls have grotesque fat, and she always wore spandex.

a cigarette with the ash never quite ashed (if you know what i mean) hanging out of her mouth. she calls you hun and her glistening black mustache twitches ever so slightly.

and then i wake up.

what the hell is wrong with this picture. i'm utterly fascinated with psychology and astrology because i want to know who, what, where and definately why.

a mental daydream, drifting, like clouds on a sunny day. i write because i could never speak this aloud. i don't write poetry because i write the first thing that pops into my head; and it doesn't always rhyme.

my life feels like one big blur.

and i invented a term for it: blah. yes, blah. blah is an adjective meaning to blah. blah can be used to describe any affliction, and pretty much sums up brain study accurately.

...and speaking of affliction. i am afflicted with a great number of things. things that pain, scar, weld myself when i speak of them. so i shall not.

the cryptic solitude makes me wonder to myself, 'self, what in the hell are you thinking. your afflictions are causing you to be delirious.' and my self would answer back to me, always the optimistic, 'blah.'

head cartoons swim happily and obviliously throughout the thorough muck. the black ichor flows inside of my veins, caught in turmoil with the fading normality.

confused?

so am i. i walk around dazed, hoping nobody will notice. laugh at my own inside jokes, jump at a noise only i heard, and always say 'what?' when people didn't even say anything.

it's like in trapped within a daydream. maybe a cartoon. ok, a cartoonish daydream. repeditive horror upon horror specutively randomizing thought patterns.

brain waves.

deep afflictions scar my soul, caught nightmarishly inside. my skull has been pillaged, my heart raped, and i just don't care anymore. that was then, this is now.

there is nothing constant except change.

a metamorphosis, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. change is afflicting my emotional barriers, threatening to make me somewhat human again.

if i could have a microprocessor embedded in my brain, and not risk death, i'd do it. i'm ready for the next level. a whole new world opens magnificantly before me. a whole new way of contemplating all that is now. all that is lost. all that is to come.

it would probably self destruct. sizzle evilly; and everywhere, everywhere, the words CORE OVERLOAD blast my eardrums.

this is the future.

i'm taking the concept of the written word, bitch slapping it in the face, and drawing all over it, like a dribbling child.

one

step

at a

time.