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| .your. .illusions. |
| Copyright - Lindsay Logsdon 2001 |
| It jumps at you from beneath, the monster you have created. I am tormented by someone - something - something I cannot see. And when I need you you can't be found. You were out in the garden, frolicking with your monsters. Where do I get off? When does this train come to a stop? The tail is swollen, infected and raw, and you can do nothing nothing at all to heal it. The pounding behind my eyes, beneath my skull... my head is throbbing with desire. Come away with me. Let's be free. Leave your creations and your self-torture behind. We can begin to live. We can be .alive. He never believed and he never will. But he can love. Swallow another pill. Gulp it down. Feel the burning consume your body. You pause at the door. No time for hesitation. The flames lick at your feet, reach out for you. I am forever trapped inside myself. Forever locked inside my skin. Turn the key. Start the car. Warm the air. Hit the road. Take off - be free. The wheel spins, spins, spins. And I... I am forced to run with it. Run with it or fall behind. Fall behind and die. What is death? Is it failure to exist? When your body goes cold and your eyes grow hard and your teeth stop chattering and you become stiff. Stiffness, burning, passion. Desire, stiff in your pants. Do you really exist? You fail to exist. And yet, you are not dead. Your hair is in your eyes. Your breath fogs the windows. I want to slap you. Hurt you - kill you, maybe. Death is something we only dream. Another illusion, not unlike life. If seal is broken, check package contents. A package, delivered to the door. Sign on this here line. Sign your life away. What is life? Is it the breath in your lungs? The God you imagine? You, my friend, are not alive. You are trapped by the monsters of your mind. Mind is seperate from body. Soul is seperate from mind. You do not exist. Nor do I. Are we dead? No. Are we alive? hahaha..! No. It squeaks. It is driving me insane. And the teeth want more, just another nibble. One more drop of blood. Passion, and desire. You desire life. Come with me. I will show you true life. We'll hop in the car, head for the highway. And drive towards life. Life is only a word. Dammit, only a word. We've run out of gas before we could even begin. And the television blares politicians on the screen making false promises, making promises false. Logic and reason are gone - they've flown out the windows of your mind. Just another illusion with which to fill the day. Smoke the joint. Pass it around. Snort another line. And we all fall down. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe. You - you're going to Heaven and you! - are going to burn eternally below. Don't tempt me. I am the creator, all-powerful. *clap* You're out! *snap* You're gone! Give me a break. Hey, God, go fuck your Holy Son up the ass. Lemme know how it feels. How does it feel? Do you enjoy being torn apart? Crushed, unable to escape, hating every second... His breathing, heavy, mouldy, in your ear. The touch of his fingers in the mess of your hair. And the dying of your soul. Your body wilting, melting, fading away until at last, you are nothing but an empty case. A semblance of someone who once was. A mere memory. His memory. His "good time". And again I ask, WHAT IS DEATH? ...Failure to exist... But when a person is here and gone at the same time - existing but non-existant... What is it then?? What am I? Alive?.. Dead?.. Just names, empty words. Illusions. |
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