I’m not of this time
Future traveler on vacation in the Land of Lost, a ship out of fuel, a world confusing, 30th century fool
I came to observe blind beings who bend to the will of a surrounding chaos
After 1000 years adrift... Tired of the creeping tedium, I’ve become one
Tired of Logging anime patches and social media confessionals for the folks back home, I became one
**You see, 21st century tragedy **** is big in the future, along with Akira and the selected letters of Eugene O’Neil**
I’m lost, tell my subordinates
Confused, no need of a map, I know the coordinates, but I’ve become one
You’re not supposed to fall in love on these missions
Just take manga pics, perhaps monitor your fission
But the eyes I’m lost in
A fading autumnal green
I had to see her, I had to be seen
A violation but I’m trained,
still I’m weak, a mind so ingrained
(I am one of you now)
While drunk counting slightly smeared, sparkles on glass glittered lips, I found myself: in love
I told her: “The wine taste on your tongue is sacramental”
A feigned profundity, it’s incidental
(a convenient disguise for my insanity)
She doesn’t love me back. But I found myself
cdh
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
I’m not of this time
Future traveler on vacation in the Land of Lost, a ship out of fuel, a world confusing, 30th century fool
I came to observe blind beings who bend to the will of a surrounding chaos
After 1000 years adrift... Tired of the creeping tedium, I’ve become one
Tired of Logging anime patches and social media confessionals for the folks back home, I became one
**You see, 21st century tragedy **** is big in the future, along with Akira and the selected letters of Eugene O’Neil**
I’m lost, tell my subordinates
Confused, no need of a map, I know the coordinates, but I’ve become one
You’re not supposed to fall in love on these missions
Just take manga pics, perhaps monitor your fission
But the eyes I’m lost in
A fading autumnal green
I had to see her, I had to be seen
A violation but I’m trained,
still I’m weak, a mind so ingrained
(I am one of you now)
While drunk counting slightly smeared, sparkles on glass glittered lips, I found myself: in love
I told her: “The wine taste on your tongue is sacramental”
A feigned profundity, it’s incidental
(a convenient disguise for my insanity)
She doesn’t love me back. But I found myself
cdh
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