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Old 12-05-2018, 05:16 PM   #1
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Follow Me

I've no idea where this is heading
My head is so heavy
Weighted down and out
I swallowed some Nyquil
Now I lie and wait
I'll let the stars take the lead
I'm sure they'll come out tonight
They seem to follow me

I lie to myself as
Ideas bounce off the walls
Following lights to and fro
There is activity all around
Chasing some truth
All over this carpeted floor
Should I trust my senses?
They seem to follow me down
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Old 12-05-2018, 05:42 PM   #2
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Re: Follow Me

Where this is heading, I've got no clue
My head is so light
Untethered up and out
I drank some poison
Now I dance and shout
I'll let my partner lead
They seem loose tonight
So I'll follow you

You can lie to me
Opinions are free
Flickering shadows
In the still of night
Crushed some pills
And smoked the fibers
For good or ill?
Chasing you all the way down.
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Old 12-09-2018, 09:42 AM   #3
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Re: Follow Me

I don't really know what I'm doing
I'm always fumbling for the keys
To doors unlocked and open wide
It's some internal anxiety and struggle
When I'm simply on the other side
And there really is no divide

So I calculate and rationalize
This polarized state to neutrality
To take a step in any direction
Hope that I do no harm
Realize there is no state of perfection
And that treading is self protection

From hurt and pain
From ecstasy and joy
From profit and gain
The prize or decoy

That maybe the mistakes and losses allow more avenues than the wins?
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Old 12-09-2018, 03:53 PM   #4
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Re: Follow Me

Very nice.

Paralysis by Analysis
A cuboidal world
that moves forward
on an endless belt of some mysterious conveyance
away from us. . .
as we stand still
to contemplate and question
unable to move
until we comprehend every
minutia of our mental pollutia

The body has left the mind. . .
possibilities left behind, as his old saying goes. . .
feed your will to feel the moment.



Why must we contemplate what is being conveyed here?

A life full of second thoughts leaves you living in a self-constructed cage
dangling high above the tangible and tearable fibers of reality.

Why do we torture ourselves so? What drives us to give a shit if there is meaning or not?

Neurotic ontologies
swallowed my head whole
like a big fish
that just dangles there
as I flail it around
peering outwards
through its bloody gills
suffocating slowly
every utterance
flubbers and blubbers
every action
is merely a banging of my
pesce-cephalic dome
against my box of reality.



I need to get this shit out of my head. This place helps I guess. . . or maybe it just stirs up more shit hahah

Hope this new season is treating you well gonz!
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