After a tiring week

Matter does not suit me very well it appears.

Spirals of madness dwell within this husk that is "being". Paranoia eats at periphery and tangental diatribes slip from clumsy lips. Comprehension is heavy, the tongue doth speak so low, forgetfulness drains the rest leading to the manifest of demented anger and a tiredness who glares around wickedly. There is something off with the right hemisection. There is something wrong and it aint right. The disconnect manifests in disconnect and a "psychic off" that people taste and spit out in distaste, or drink up until bare bones lay washed up on the sand, salt encrusted and brittle. Tiredness inspiring longing to be the ethereal being one's past self did long for. To ethereally blend into the background noise of the universe and observe undisturbed by sentient others for all time. Heavy is the iron rusty soul that dwells among man.

Strange Love

Deep within my core lays a love so raw that I've grasped it down from lofty heights of ethereal meaningless otherness and ground it to earth, remaking it into the neurochemical secretions that it always was. Ive let it lace its multifaceted interactions within me interacting and shooting waves across minds, meta loving. It has sprung up from the primordial mud and evolved over time to become this lotus flower blossoming inside of me, spilling pollen from my quivering lips a sweet perfumed storm for you to inhale and take it as you will.

Medicine's Real Creed

I want to stay a part of this tiny world
Be privy to the arcane knowledge it holds guard over
About this weyrde body of ours both wondrous and frightening
Learn knowledge only God and the Devil intimately know
To succeed each level of this brotherhood
And be brought closer to understanding
To accept that understanding will always move further away.
I acknowledge the white coat is purity I will never again have
And with each life I sacrifice in the name of my craft,
Each mistreated soul I cause agony for the sake of my pride, my ego, my greed
It sullies me more while it enriches my coffers
I want to enjoy the splendor of being acknowledge a healer
And willingly give my blood and sanity to reach thus.

That Old Song

Mister spider one day asked why the dead surrounds me. So I said to this dark furry fellow, I told him ... "Long ago I heard a song whose rhyme and rhythm still fill me with dread. It was whistled from lips that earlier smiled so handsomely. That song! When I first heard it my innocence packed her bags and bid me adieu. When I heard it again my sanity choose filth and I did fall from grace just to get away from its maddening chymes. And then I thought I heard it again, Mister Spider, that song, and maybe I did hear, briefly. Know what I did? I nigh near lost it. That song got in me head and haunted me for months on end before fading away but not before bodies were left behind. And now ... Now me love ... Now I have heard it again. No love no. Are you whistling? Are you making melody? Have no fear. No it lingers in the wind. But it don't control me. No. That handsome grin ... No ... See these tears? They dry ... And so Mister Spider, that don't answer your question but ... But maybe one day when you fully find out why you will remember me telling you this and maybe .. Maybe you'll understand why." And after I finished the tale Mister Spider gave me such a look and went back to being what he was - a lifeless avatar hanging from my wall, his spirit gone back to where ever it goes when he leaves me. I am alone.

Lured

Flesh wires carry bad decisions across end plates driving forward actions leading to the unexpected start of everything grand and disturbed. You cornered me like a confused lamb thinking a wolf its mother, and I did pounce. Honey thing you were - sweet and pure reacting like a timid deer making my murderous desires swell. But you ...That smile! Shaped by the distorted denizen in your mind - it spirals and hypnotizes. Flashes of solar radiation off your tricky pointed teeth prevented me from seeing you when you ... Here I thought I was the dagger piercing your side, drinking your essence, killing you; but you revealed yourself to be that dark creature destined to suck the marrow from my bones. This is all so wonderfully disturbed.

Loup Garou

I fell in love with madam moon and when she kissed me I became a Loup Garou. Joyfully I padded through streets liberated and free leaving beautiful carnage in my path. Blood flowed and tasted sweet. Screams were like laughter, howls like cries of joy. But joy and darkness never last. When dawn did crack I found myself again - a naked and barefooted wretched thing full of pain and lacking in magic. Madam moon's luminous gaze was turned elsewhere as she fled in the fleeting carpet of night from dawn's bright harshness. Alone I walked through my destruction, love sick and vulnerable to the victims I made.

Reflection on CHange

Fractal patterns through my mind of easy to come by thoughts and beliefs. I want to be that notorious stigmatized thing; but in the truth I'm not. Letting go of the old means being chopped to pieces by dull blades in painfully slow fashion. Agonizing screams echo through the cluttered halls of my mind during the process. Shivering from the pain and weighed by thoughts - rebirth is most terrible but most necessary to continue forward. You do it alone. Expect no support or understanding. Misery is the price for letting go of your animal instincts, your robotic programming, and becoming an entity of its own right ... Until programming weighs you down again and rebirth wickedly calls from the shadows of newness.