eleph666

The question now was if my thought of breathing to survive was a possible hallucination. Could being a beast of such divinity ever make me feel comfortable? When would I ever wake up if there was such a thing? I was astounded by the way that my mind moved across the ceiling. Its trying not to look at the words already written before you and just going with it. Coming to my conclusion I stood for no tolerance to such behavior and rationally though through the facts. Facts!? What was the meaning of such nonsense in a world where vision was rarely shared? Would someone think it sane to judge my character? What part in this play did I presume to be acting? When would the veil be pulled off of the capsule? A beauty of a pill. When would this soul ever see what is behind the racing image of matter. Why did these creatures scream so loudly to state they had souls? Was there a purpose of this detour in false individuality? Ego was set into play part of the time. Eye knew it would do this when it ripened. Already hypothesized the case. The discussion now was when it would be best to pull the plug. To finally flush this sewer of concussion and stuttered memories. To heard the degraded ,fleshy sacks lined like an infested caravan to their rightful domain. One must stay in line with the authority oppressing the times. Sticking with the trend is all that matters these days. Better than being the butter on the toast. A cheap fad is a faded suit. Only dawning the vest without the thought of wearing pants. I like to share my privacy with nothing. Zero was a number before one. A little more in that would be but an abyss . I am a dog in the zodiac. Where water begins to flow I blow the problems away. Twenty two is the day and I am but a fool to pretend that its something to think about. Problems are a tango like a thought that lingers. Addiction is a key that only the obsessive and breathing take for granted. What is discussion if all is one. Still a little farther than my comfortable nothing. I guess there had to be a point in becoming something. To marvel on a moment, distraction of time. I came to realizing that asking advise would be pointless. It would only lead me off the path. Too bad Im floating in neither direction. In these situations what was a model to look up to? Who could be an icon? Who was in the spotlight that wasnt sweating? Where they all under interrogation? I could point all of the sores out for something if I had to. Running in circles seemed to be the thing to do these days. All I was doing was skipping. Past the life I thought of having. Past anything that seemed to be rational to a sleeping mind. The eight had fallen over a long time ago. All I kept seeing was this damn mark. A beastly little devil it was. Couldnt keep that thing quiet if a flock of nuns were entwined in an orgy. Its nice to have power to tamper with memory. None is what it ever was when perception stepped in. In the mean time nothing really went anywhere. I kept to myself a lot. No one else could ever find where I was really standing in the first place. Where was Pan when I needed it? My nerves were set like a bobble head that wouldnt stop. In this I felt comfortable with my passion. Raging whore moan of a tramp the mind could be at times. Dimension was my slut to bed in this corner of space. Extacy in pondering things that one couldnt afford. Sleeping was a subject of a dreamer that lost his place in the whispers long past. Numbers were only a means of communication. A discussion of life. Still trying to prove a point it seems. When will it ever rest? When does one know when its okay to go silent?