Caffeinated Psychosis
I feel stuck in time...by pain...by the streets that have become so threatening...by the dark hooded stranger under street lamps...by the piles and piles of grey dirty snow...I feel like this winter is never going to end...the holes in the streets shaking my van....the street is a treadmill, my car stuck here in time with me...slowly going nowhere....the pain keeps me here tied to the cartoonish macabre nightmares and visions that only I see as I drink more monster juice...monsters popping out of the drapes, wood-work, and wallpaper...a tapestry of imaginary friends that I had pushed out of my mind when I was a young toddler...perhaps that is what babies smile and wave at...angels, demons...those wallpaper friends that I see when I allow my eyes to relax and look beyond the walls and constructs of reality...the fabricated world...fabricated by my mind. I feel stuck...fuck...I feel stuck by pain...always the pain...ever the damned pain...and I wish that some one would come pull me out of this circle of hell...there has to be a way for me to get out...I am dead...I think. Does this mean I never lived at all....? And if this is death...what LIFE HAVE I EVER LIVED!?!?!
Copyright Adam Gaile 2014
