Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Old Man with the shotgun in his hand

The Old Man with the shotgun in his hand



I think we all have madness in us, it's just that I've realized mine and found a way to let it out.
John Glover






the sinister parts only show themselves to me in the first rays of sunlight
she was a big part of my naked lazy life
she was the one that always suggested something crazy
for her the life of the mundane was pleasant but dull
what am I doing here?
why do I seek the pain that is in her heart?
it would be some much simpler to let the past fade into oblivion
to worry about getting started
to fear that the world was already leaving me behind
I am only sixteen and yet I feel so much older
it is as if a much older spirit dwells inside me
he speaks to me in my dreams
and shows me where the connections exist
he shows me connections that I would never had seen by myself
I must give him a name, this spirit inside me
I feel that naming him would give me some sort of ownership over him
sometimes he seems like a saint and other times he seems like an animal
sometimes when I am fucking Mona
it seems like the old man is fucking her instead of me
it is as if he is living through me
a 50 year old man living through a 16 year old boy
how is this possible?
am I possessed?
how did this happen?
maybe I am crazy
maybe someday they will lock me up
untill then I will ride this thing out to its fullness
till the wickedness comes full circle
it will be a perfect circle
I can see it in my mind
this is a strange thing that means so much to me
I know you couldn't help it
it was your destiny
just as I had to follow mine
my heart would ache for you
it felt like it would explode
like I was breathing my last breath
she is learning new poses
getting stronger every day
I took her to a musical
the craziness is open all hours
I am always waiting for Mona to catch up
we kill without proper justification
mona takes away my citizenship
all the different circumstances
she is playing with my spider
it is black and furry
she took me around 10:30
she couldn't close my eyes
feeling mad and angry
and disconnected from myself
I want to talk to you
I want to explain myself
I took your to the roller coaster
and we shared the unpleasant experience
you make me crazy
trying to change my thinking
I'm never gonna laugh again
in the darkness forever
never going to feel love
it fills so good to yearn
sucking on your breast
zipping you up into the straightjacket
caught in the dream
sometimes I'm a good guy and sometimes I'm a bad guy
people just value lives
I don't understand why
I am preparing a special death just for you
with every breath let yourself go deeper and deeper
you have a voice
the corrupt fear you
you are washing my clothes in the bunker
safe from the bombs of the 1 percent
they are destroying the industrial heart
making everything empty
I can see the glitches in the matrix
cute and fuzzy mania
sometimes the weirdness gets too far away
and we have to bring it closer to home
when we are desperate, we cannot see the beauty
we can only embrace the terribleness in a great manner
making an effort with the aid of terror
becoming insatiable with is all
the madness, the terror, the limits of humanity
where did we go wrong?
how did we create such a mess?
your flesh is my fantasy
getting fuzzy headed
funky headed
it has been fifteen hours
since you last read my sensory book
I am a cuddly lion
feel my silky paws
I am soft and snuggly
a gift from Dr. Joan
you look pretty when you come walking through the door
it is not the end of the conversation
I cannot get you off my mind
as soon as I wake up
sometimes its morning
sometimes its not
I begin to think about you
then I ask myself, which you should I make today?
then a few things cross my mind
there are so many possibilities

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