Even if you don't exist.
The idea of you,
has kept me going.

Even if it's lackadaisical
with a heavy helping of delusion.
It's better than nothing.

My mind is a tornado.
Whipping through my thoughts,
on an endless loop.

Distorting memory and fantasy and blending them together.
In a warm drink of fuckery.

I'm smiling right through you.
With a thousand yard stare.
I'm doing fine.
Just a little manic.

Casually accepting
we're living in a dystopian nightmare.
We've been training for this moment.

Years of all this
chaos and fuckery has aged us.

When will we wake up
from this fever dream?
And at what cost?

There's no coming back from the cliff we've been pushed off.

We are the hive mind.
A collective of self depravity.
Wrapped up in Pandora's box.

Like ants climbing into their hill
Descending deeper and deeper into the hell they've created.

Are we any different?

Compliments are just friendly reminders; that the mirror and our thought are both compulsive liars.
Sent from the depths of hell
to drag us back down with them.
We're smiling through our tears.
But for what?
At least we're okay, right?
I don't know who's real anymore.

Freedom is just a word most of us can't afford. .
It really only happens when you have a fat stack.
These days freedom is taking whatever you want and ******* over, everybody else.
In whatever position you'd like.

The only winner in life's trials are the ones brave enough to shout their dissent.

Control is merely a word to be taken in context.
If you could smell the desperation in the air.
You'd notice pleasant notes of petchulance and defeat.
Guising as false bravado our enemy lies like a motorboat whipping through the swamp he never drained.

Love's just the lightening in a bottle.
The wonderful electricity that powers our beating hearts.

Life could be so wonderful, if you'd quit breaking my circuit.

We're all just torturing ourselves
for greater social gratification.
For people I do not know or even care about.
Feeling worthless is a popular trend.
And I am exhausted.
I don't want to be social anymore.

Better to be
dust in the wind.
Floating to new beginnings.
Than to be the ash that fills
the urns of our past lives.

Using God as an excuse
to stab your Brother in the back
Too cowardly to show your face.
And too stupid to see all the evil unfold.
Evil you supported. .
Thank you for ruining our country.

I'm gathering my thoughts.
Like leaves.
To be raked up and cast away.
Just as our dreams died before us.
In the end, do we even matter?

Mood disorders, the natural defense system.
Of the abundantly emotional.

When did having feelings become such a bad thing?
In a world fixated on bipolar memes and acute anxiety.

End the stigma.
Such a fancy phrase that when push comes to shove.
Most are the stigma posing as the advocate. .

You may laugh now.
But when you're midlife crisis
catches up with you.

How will you react?