Am I alive?

If you look at this life as whole;
even though you cannot, -BZZZkkkSSt-


Deaf ears and ignorant words flowing from the gleefully jabbering jaw.
A rowdy room with a fat white man pointing to a smiling childs doom.
Pontificating lifestyle changes to a ***** indulgence and swift isolation all with -Click-Click-Click-

The following is a message from you.

To wake up, I need a form in which to pour myself, no longer can I burst forth with such wild abandon of originality; I need the common moniker of dependency and consistency. We humans do not shed our metaphorical skins in cyclical existence, but don them slowly as an arthritic old man covers his aging body after a bath, covering up our old worn through thoughts.

Do you hear me?*

What goes in an outward direction of an existing gravity well and does not have enough force to exit said gravity well will reach peak velocity before finally losing momentum.
-BZkkZZKSSTkT-

This world saddens me,
I wish to take a trip, away.

The cold causes me to shiver,
creeping deathly wet it spreads as if an over flowing river.

I'm begging you please,
don't leave me in these dark empty seas.

I see no love left in me and there is no decision to make,
no drink to sate my thirst,
no self left to forsake.

Sugar nightmares haunt children
Nancy harlequins cane them

Oh, child of mine
your life you did,
away,
sign.

Force fed familiarity with already branded emotions,
irregular realities and clouded surreal formalities,
so very many humans’ form dichotomies
out of our shared mute gray;
spinning constant self-important prose.
So very many humans share so much,
so little,
not often
doing little to soften
all of their emotional blows
trying hard to strike enigmatic pose.

Oh, child of mine
the heart of utilitarian method
has receded in incredulous fashion
followed by authoritarian apologies;
the majority is not icecream people
spreading simple good thought,
but generations fraught
with trivial conformist ideologies.
We are all hiding our seams
with creative masks
and self created tasks.

Oh, child of mine
your prescription reality is revealing itself as Atlantis,
sinking and shuddering into Quaaludes
with frightening psychotic interludes.
Emotions paint
stained lurid faces,
dancing with
ludes effecting movement,
nudes of swaying and repose.
You arose deeming so much rightfully yours
waltzing through seemingly already opened doors.

Holy curb their anti-Christ
Consider your aging soul

Oh, child of mine
Belief of awareness in action
understand the probability of dissatisfaction,
Stop!
treating the moment as a bleak bridge to the next inaction.
Eventually ponderous thoughts form
resembling an orrery,
an incessantly philippic story
orchestrates your oleaginous personality.

Oh, child of mine
Youth flees and your mind
takes once again to the seas,
a vexing penumbra of perception.
Bathos permeates the fathoms of an obstreperous life
and if you still care,
lament that this meaningless congeries
of moments
inspires only delusion,
no disillusionment.
Eventually a lilting threnody
leading 'tween burning pews of proposed serenity
and the following bumping callithump
will firmly stamp you into black infinity.

Oh, child of mine
You've used the switch
too much
too often
coupled with lofty scoffing
giving the innocent up as offering
to the
mechanical engine
             of organic creation.

Rails mime safety of man,

                   and rules comfort you.

     Authority stiffens your belief,

out of this support comes power,

and now above us so many tower.