I think the trees are walking, their gnarled roots groaning like the oldest of bones, their branches puncturing the sky. Just outside minding my own business when a thick slime started falling from the sky in staggered increments. The sense of surreal normalcy is still hanging over me. At any moment I expect the walls to peel away and reveal a vast ocean of space. The illusion that illusion can be transcendent  .

Don't use the soap MeMa gave  you for Christmas.

Strong suspicion shes supporting that crazy creepy cult that resides in the  basement of the old abandoned tire factory.

When used it rapidly dissolves leaving you with a handful of painted marbles,  Jesus's face on one side, "ready to clean your soul?" on the other.

Equal parts disturbing and ridiculous to be cleaning the naughty bits with a fistful of divinity.

Who says we are free?
We pay bills
We follow laws
We are taught morals
Rules are set
Flies are free
They eat ****
They land anywhere they want
They can fly anywhere they want
Until they land somewhere
Then SWAT!
the fly is dead
Maybe flies aren't free
Maybe all living things
Have to set rules
Just in different ways

Let's break all the rules and laws of this society
and grow old with creative minds and young hearts
living in the worlds created by our demons
without the fear of getting lost or falling apart.