same old same old here I am, back in the dock again I guess it’s too late now to plead insanity so what’s my excuse? I’m picking at old wounds might even tear me a few new ones but I can’t help myself some memories have sharp edges and weigh heavy on the heart there’s pain at the core of everything sometimes I can’t see it but it’s always there like
worms gnawing on my bones or lice crawling through my hair
…and I shall
fear no evil even in the fury of
the storm for I have a place yes, I have a place a place I call home nestled in my shoulder in a world of secrets where you could not touch me though you were a beast you could not touch me yes, you were the beast and I was alone
some random
woman a creature with no name called me a narcissist a narcissist? I should be so lucky what with my conscience not to feel for others but lord it up in some fantastic
story free of guilt free of shame yes, I should be so lucky to be so deluded to walk amongst the beasts to think and feel like they do to behave just like a killer to carry on like you
I got a
telephone in my bosom so I can call
you from my heart let me tell you
about my freedom coz it matters
that much to me and why don’t you take
a look at yourself? take a good look at yourself is
this the way you wanted it to be? if
I called collect would you answer me then? or if you chose to dial my number? could it matter much to me?
if this life
had any meaning we’d be the last to
know we’re spoon-fed on slurry
culture waving banners and burning crosses them outside they’re not like us we got the understanding them outside ain’t got no culture coz without
a flag a man is nothing without a
flag he has no home
we are creatures
of light and shade but most of us are
dead inside victims of spiritual
suicide the abyss of our pain swallows all ambition and our darkest monuments cast heavy shadows across our empty lives I’m having a human experience here typical to my generation I took a bullet to the soul I’m bleeding out again but I no longer seem to care
I’m tired of
thinking no-one can think and fight
at the same time and I’m in a fight
here the fight of my life insanity and happiness are an unlikely
cocktail and they have labeled me
mad because I feel too much because I’m sad but my sanity is open to debate perhaps madness is a natural reaction to the real maybe
I am crazy maybe madness is a
failing but I ask you who can be sane in a world gone mad?
you have to be crazy to play by the rules to believe in a game that is rigged to make you the fool
this is not my first lynch mob I’ve been tarred and feathered before victim of that parochial mediocrity that says you are different so you must be bad and if you are bad then we must be good well I don’t pretend to be good no-one would believe me anyway I don’t look good and I don’t feel good and I never trust a man who says he is good most men are only as good as they have to be
I will
always speak my truth
but not only in words coz words are not enough not my words my words deceive I'd promise the truth, but what would it mean? I promise never to make promises promises take hostages I'll act in accordance with my spirit and live as I damn well choose coz you
cannot bury your truth it will always resurface like Lazarus in an
ocean of deceptions
your truth will never drown your truth shall always find you your truth will be your judge and if it finds you wanting your truth shall be your noose
I made my own
bible proclaimed it like a
trumpet the world was deaf and did not hear but
my words were impeccable I tried to
use their power in the direction
of good because I am an instrument of peace and a vassal of love because love is the supreme science love is the only law
this was no
epiphany it all came on real easy like over the course of decades it was less a voyage of discovery more a process of discarding garbage I know who I am now and I won’t forget the world won’t let me I’m fatally flawed and that’s my strength it can’t be used against me
individuals
are thin on the ground most people
are just copies nothing of them is
original they are an amalgam of stories
they have heard because everyone has
stories playing inside their heads we’re all just the stories we tell
ourselves most of them are fictions we take pride in our fictions our uniqueness but when I found out who I really was I
was bitterly disappointed because
I’m not at all unique I’m a total fucking cliché
a manic
depressive whore with a taste for
drink and drugs I truly am my own
worst enemy I’m just a Jonas and
I seem to sow discord wherever I go but I ain’t crying when
I survey my life I see I’ve lived it as
well as I could but it doesn’t
matter now just how I have lived I can no longer play the role assigned me I simply ceased to give a shit and that brought me peace of mind but I had to make that peace through
understanding because everything is
connected everything is now
mistakes are
my life I’ve made a few oh well, must get on get things done stain the silence with my words my best years have fled perhaps there was a time when I was happy I must have been happy in her arms yes, I must have been happy in her arms
I’d better do
something while I still have the
fire maybe a fire or embers still to fan or will I brood in my stinking lair? and feel her absence and feel her near? every man hefts a cross until he eventually dies or he disappears I might find it funny but I don’t do funny not in this place no, not in here
what an
idea absurd but powerful it has real poetry but oh lord there ain’t room for us both in
this religion you’d best count me a monkey
man coz I’m about this world, not the next my dharma is entirely human that’s
what interests me - being human
life has no
meaning but the meaning we give it art is the true expression of humanity I want to be art I want to perfect my form of being my being human because it matters because I believe in humanity the
laws of nature seem cruel there’s
no justice in the universe the universe does not care but
we care, right? even in a godless
world - we still care - don’t
we?
*image 'The Three Shades' Auguste Rodin
lately, I’m not really there I’m not really anywhere sometimes I’m not myself I mutate into something else sometimes I’m formed in the shadows exposed under sodium light I can’t seem to shake the feeling that it all could happen again I’d be down on the killing floor dragging my ball and chain through hospital corridors desperate to escape finding no way home
fuck this for
a game of soldiers fifty years on the
treadmill just to make some other
cunt filthy no, I’m sick of their bourgeois
heroes I’m sick of their holy books they want to stunt your imagination with
their prisons, churches and schools
well, I’m opting out I’ve simply had enough I’m an armchair revolutionary now hooked to the silver screen I think I broke the world I didn’t know what I doing I was only killing time when this notion came to me… I need to escape this room and smash my fucking TV
