you know...

  that when you mingle
10 minutes

       of something
akin to: annamae renee...

  and retract...
          rob zombie:
                  michael (lyrics)...

the part where i grew
a beard...
    i decided to remembering
towing both
ego, and shadow...

  giggles...
                giggles...
oops... new york ******
gonna spot me...
            likd:
there's a hand,
and there's a cookie jar...
and there's subsequently
in it?
               pauper boy
better pay...
    
      this world can't
be more ****** up with me in
it to boot...
nope...
              but this is
the newly arrived
normal...
      
                             h'art...
            ah ha ha ha...
              lost the E...
    and all i can begin
to fathom is a murky night,
a romance...
       a low hanging fruit
metaphor the the moon
and...
familiar people i no longer
want to be familiar with...

minimum colour,
maximum canvas...
and something to be allowed
an ingestion
of                  l
    e              t                t
e               r              s
moulded into
                       verbatim...      
words...
   sentences...
            high-minded
provoke: the remains
       of meaning:

      who is of whatever is my
worth beyond the man
that has to tease?

Brian does all the thinking?
and Harley does all
the "feeling"?

              last time i checked...
after Brian did a haemorrhage
shackle spasm...
coordination is just fine...
narrative switched a little...
    aged 21...

          subsequent psychosis
"l.s.d." trip...
                   so... my thinking
originates in my brain...
the medieval people used
to cite their soul being derived
from their Brian...

all heart, no thought...
hmm...
            can i suppose
an antithesis
of the pronoun I...
with the sum-minor-&-major
origin
of energy momentum,
the 21 grams...
the Σ...

    all i know is that once
you succumb to cancer
people are expected to feel sorry
for you,
but when you succumb to
schizophrenia, and they laugh...
they're expected to laugh
and you're supposed
to be doubly punished...
   bewildering...
how some of the stereotypical
schizophrenics react...
forgetting to laugh
at the cancer succumb...

   if you ******* a schizophrenic...
i guess...
you were really gagging for
it;
my honest opinion;

   which part?
the part where i tell you:
no... auditory hallucinations
  aren't fun...
  they're not something aking
to ingesting psychadelic drugs...
        
met a thief,
met a ****,
met a policeman
   in gucci bracelets
while having just finished
******* in an alley...
met a *******,
met a madman,
met a priest,
i might have met
a poet...
saw a ******* get kicked
in the head while
distributing
leaflets in a suburban street...
****...
  i'm missing a serial killer...
i should be missing more...
i'm suspicious...
there have to be more...
   "characters"
akin to the list of the ******...
i might have met my
shadow...
dunno...
my ego is doing the round
of faking everything
using me, as body,
while remaining silent...
calls it: psychology
of the puppet...
        oh sure... met a football
hooligan...
met a plumber,
met a supermarket cashier,
a turkish barber,
a cobbler,
        might have drunk a beer
with a jazz band drummer...
maybe...
   decided to skip
the actor and the whole scene...
thought much about
russian ballerinas
and new york models...
      gave my dislocated
index finger to a hungarian
a & e doctor...
gave my 'quo vadis?'
to an iranian anaesthetist
and my rotting wisdom
teeth to a german dentist...
my first *******
to cameron diaz circa
1994... the mask...
    and... all that would ever
not fruition into a platonic love
affair...
        love of a steering-wheel?
to the no. 5 bus driver
from my hometown...
     and all that became
constituted into a boiling-down
of eccenctricity...
   to the garden state
soundtrack...
  climbing the scaffold...
   attached to, old college,
edinburgh...
   and watching the firth of forth,
solo...
     at night...
              as if the northern
lights descended upon the waters...
and there was a vague
whitened illumination
in the waters...
no... not a fog...
a luminescent serpent
of myopia bothered
to make itself
            concentrated
into a weaving sculpture
upon the water.