This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Nebulas

I just want to feel good
That's the only thing about this
I'm about the point where not just one thing
Is going to make up and make me feel better
When you have a haybale
There's no last straw
When you have a chasm
You'll never reach the end
Leads me sadly mistaken

I'm sick and tired of playing this like a game I'm losing
Calculating every last thing, weighing, balancing, judging
See a misshapen man
And you'll be hopelessly mistaken
And I can't help you

Freedom is when you have nothing left to lose
And we'll always have something

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