memory, fantasy, dream...reality. so much reality. it tires me. call the soldiers back. order the retreat. memory, dream, fantasy...what's the difference reality always waits. sit in a chair journey through these states. ugliness, the truth, the swallowing, the following, the inconsistency, the mediocrity, the moments of loyalty, the paint mildewed now peeling off the door, that imperfection you can't ignore. those you tried to love, those you could never hate. fragments that build the whole, the hole drifting over your soul. to hibernate so you can perform, to shine yourself up and let your toe nails grow long, scratch your loves ankles while she sleeps. amazing what a good night and days sleep will do, how it can heal you, how you can stare in a mirror but never really see who you are. people want love, but that doesn't mean it's right, there's that lie of safety in flight, but delusion too, the collusion in the book of your people. i just don't like those who fear the world "intellectual" but want you anyway, i swear i'll fight the people who put my name in their mouth, but those who are scared to be alone i feel you pain, those alone in room after room i feel you fear. it's the only place free you can be, really roam, alone, finally return home, remember you're not trapped
fuck all of them
i'm you and you're me...