Chaotic Ramblings of an Untamed Mind

This is raw. Unadaulterated, unedited data from the depths of of what remains of this mind. Please remember that I love you.

A code. The slow process of going insane. "Oh just murdering my wife," he told the officers standing at the door.
Hyplenode flew accross the wheel strapped to his personal jet pack.

Waiting around for the muse to strike, I instill a sense of urgency.
Hopes to the end of, or tempting its hand.
Lingered in impotence burning his hair.
The loss in the hollow, the intangibility.
Obscureness and waifish...
Not sure if this is all real or if reality might be transmitting from the other side now.
Would I have missed it?
I seemed to have missed my birth and death is surely the path to my next one.
Is it really so hard to believe?
That I might have expired some time ago
And only chosen to believe in this chaotic, confusing, and ever uncertain existence?
Not so hard when its desperate incomprehensibility is echoed by all whom experience it.
Who knows? Who really knows? I mean...
At this point, wondering why food that's good for you should taste bad,
Or why getting in shape should feel bad
Smacks of disillusionment and a general disappointment with what is.
When life is not wotrth living and we go on living it anyway...
What do you call that?
Who's living this life?
Who hops in the driver's seat and decides to sally forth?
Some uninvited guest?
Some altruistic, do-gooding, impossibly selfless cartoon characature of an idol?
Role model supreme?
This hidden angel lurks in the light.
Waiting, praying, looming
Until the drugs run out
Or are taken away.
Until the chance to brighten my shadows,
To ruin this delightfully sullen and Inevitably painful gloom arises.
This man, I don't believe in, or his ability to foster mirth from empty space.
Without matter, matter must not be changed...
Mustn't it?
No pill, no powder, no drink, no smoke...
No hope.
No prostitution, no sex, no pleasure...
No fucking way out.
Rely on that which put you in this mess to get you out... if only for a moment.
That's the American way -- these days anayway.
Pride in the absence of dignity.
An egg shell's fortitude of character.
Irradiated watery yolk of a soul.

Inside us all must be created a base at center.
A shelter from judgement...
And yes... even guilt.
A shelter in which only goodness may be intended, regardless of actions.
All -- including death -- made welcome.