Robbed

  The complexity of my inquiry has robbed me of my sanity. I have to justify to myself why I stick needles through my eye. Because I want to make sure that feelings feel real, and are not just the placeholders of memory. I have to question my motive to deactivate my laser-guided thoughts, just because I may hurt someones robots.



  I am being robbed of my right to sell apples to Satan just so I can see clearly, that I can break you down and make you weary. Merely breathing around you will do the trick, like blowing on the fiery end of a candle's wick. I think not therefor I want to be, and cannot be because I planted this money tree in my path.



  I lash out freely, wildly, just to watch people's faces freeze. And I am pleased. Because I was robbed of my right to speak openly about my inner feelings by a system of rules that nobody can touch. Locked away behind blood and oil, guarded by men and women laying their lives down just to keep the crown on our king. I want to reach out and take the whole world underneath my wing! To teach you the ways of what it is really like to be alive.



  I might have been robbed, but I am a tricky kind of being. I built something out of old things, and made it brand new. Because I can do many, many things that you cannot imagine! Why, you may wonder to yourself inside your shell...I will tell you...because I know what the pursuit of happiness really is, and that you cannot take from me.