LO$ER

I wander threw darkness with my head open,these white walls singed,my body is a vessel of good will and intentions. Harmony is the disguise I fade by,irony is the wild eyes of a child who stares back from the inside of the mirror I reside in. Iam rounded by telepathy,next to me is nothing but vile trials of will and profittering.I am no prophet,but grain of the land;I lead by example,and listen while others wait for their chance.Glances of harlots puts me in trances and are but awe inspiring examples of my humanity,gradually I fall asleep,but not before I open the door way to obscurity. These random night time images speak volumes to me. Its all by design,these days into the dusks,those kids who keep forgeting to drop me notes...I pour bong water on these sluts,only in hopes of toasts and hugs,if they make an action figure of my alter ego he'll have a kung fu pick pocketing button. Somthings not right with my brain,which points me in the direction of mental illness or extreme awareness of those above and beside this chest,my heart beats threw my skin,and Iam aware of how blessed ive been,which directs me in new directions.I cant stop this avalanche of detours and objections,the only lesson I garner is new ways to fashion these words into followers,even though the art I love is dead. Im not bashing my head threw any plate glass windows,but with that being said,the kids still think im out of control and spiraling downward...but my days arent riddled by others words,I push to the center of my being so that I can be releaved of these earthly immortals always jabber jawwing in my presence,steering me down the path of fear. I cant tell whats worse these days,an apocalypse or the manifestation of it, I pray that my next life has visions of this one,deja vus of beautiful days with people who I truley love...I feel smug when I talk about desires,or how I live a truly blessed life,though I understand it has more teachings and strife then most,but my time proceeds by its own design,so my days arent filled dreams of VCRs or boats...or whatever junk people crave for,designate days for,celebrate their tastebuds by drowning in a sea of blubber and talk shows. I ghost,wildly into the lights,tearing down high ways so my brain will see these sights,Id rather collect friends in reality then stare at their pictures and read their statuses. God damnit..im attracted to the plastic intentions as well,Ill still find myself wandering around malls in orange county,but I dont purchase anything,I just want to be reminded of why I sleep in parked cars in random parkinglots across the united states,and why I dont go on dates to make my penis and self confidence feel great,id rather beat my meat then go tricking and risk ruining my insides in one date...its funny to me how easy it is to waste this life,it always seems brighter on the other side,which makes suicide bombers and ravers confidants in a molecular genocide...my brain is fried,and my tires are worn,but that dosent mean Ill be sitting for long,or jumping on bandwagons or aiming for awards,this is no sport,this is what friends are for...and how enemies are born. Even with no bad intentions,swagger jackers come out of the wood...but I say fuck it,imma let them live....i wish we all would.