Chaos and complexity
This demon standing next to me
The angel's on vacation
She says this is a test of me
But this might take the rest of me
I gotta somehow make this demon flee
Before he gets the best of me.
I've done this all before.
I need no one to rescue me.
This demon is no match, you see.
To fail is not my destiny.
A demon's never bested me.
Each demon that's tested me.
Learned why it shouldn't mess with me.

You see, I've become a soldier.
From all the chaos and complexity.

Is it really me that's gone insane?
Or, brother, is it you?
I think a gear has popped astray.
It's you, oh yes, it's true.
You say I must be crazy.
To think that you're insane.
You think it's in my head.
I think it's in your brain.
You're smarter than a bowl of soup,
But dumber than a brick.
To say that I'm the one that's crazy
Really makes me sick.
I'm smarter than the average man.
I'm good at thinking quick.
But you think I'm the ****** one,
With the nervous tick.
Don't even look at me no more.
Stop sending words my way.
I'm the only voice in this head of mine that deserves the light of day.

I miss being filled with a sense of here and now from
the unclouded mental vision of youth before
the eclosion from adolescent reverie to
adult delusions.
Every moment thereafter
being crystallized with serene debasement of self.
With age eagerly gripping the hand of heartache,
will you worry about losing relevance?
survey says, an astounding "YES"
Frightening,
knee-knocking
shoot the stranger who walks at dusk questions arise...
How long will my mental faculties survive this torment of existence?
How long till I am the stranger blinded and in the dark?
How long till I am the fly caught in a web of ineptitude?
Forever the convalescent,
I revel in and reveal the depths of human insolence.
For, ever striving to be the emotion-less outsider,
I become buried beneath the
inherent
ephemerality
of
cerebral
acuity.

The transvestite
in the corner
sauntered over to me dripping ******
while I tightly gripped j&b; on the rocks in a heavy glass

ignoring myself

and he whispers heavily in my ear
after colliding with the bar, sitting down hard
"I want to be treated like a woman, and ****** like one."

The ****** next to us at the bar,
Thin legs crossed, drinkless and bruised
                      hearing this, turned,
Saying around a thin menthol on a long filter

"Oh' honee'y"

Making a small 'tch 'tch 'tch noise with her tongue seductively.

"You don't **** us, we *******."