unscheduled hallucinations and psychotic interludes plagued my formative years and shaped my ultimate destination I reached critical mass gained a certain momentum but, I wish I could just lie down and take a fucking telling
I’m so tired right now I could drag the whole world with me through darkened corridors to the great panopticon where elastic promises and suicidal compacts are made by strange bedfellows there’s no parole or remission given for the devotees of chaos just as there are no casual acquaintances forged in solitary confinement
I like it. It speaks to vague memories in the deep dark recesses of my mind.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jericho. I think we must have similar recesses
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