Distrait, but I refuse medication. Hell knocks

I love Space
In my memory, yes
I’ve felt it, the joy
Of belonging to an idea
Take me, fool me
The joy of the first time when
Where
How
By what means
I’ll finish your imperfections
My dear Commodore
But how’s it possible
That pixels have multiplied
Into irrelevance
The death of understanding
The death of recognition
Into smoothness
The cymbals of the past pronounce
We are great
But how many of us
By what means
In an instant
I knock, you open
Vision
Cannot process over
Constellations

How to reference my way out of art and into accomplishment

LOAD”$”,8
SEARCHING FOR $
LOADING
READY.
LIST

O references
Speak my trauma to the world
Go tell it on the Internet
Go and tell how Dudikoff saved me
With his shuriken techniques after they cornered
Me for the 56th time in 4th grade
A fulfilling dream of killing them all
Rang in my ears and briefly stopped the killing although I never
Really meant to kill anyone, just put those weak
Bastards back in their pokeballs
But Jerry, that sneaky fucker seconded by Tom
Used to relax
Me after school in 6th grade although I knew
He would’ve been among that gang
That accused me
Wrongfully
Of raping a guy on our excursion in 4th grade
And there I was, a fag
Not even gay although I wondered many times
Would Plato fancy me
I don’t care
My soul is leafy like Baggio’s feet in front of Taffarel
Resentment metastasised all through the last synapse
And I hate you, Andrei, the most
Because you lied
To me when you told me
In this digital plague
There will be ears to hear the bell

So I turn on my Commodore
Who’s been here before me
Who has never let
Me down
Who’s seen things I’ll always believe in
PIRATES!
BARBARIAN
LASER SQUAD
ONE ON ONE
I PLAY 3D TENNIS
SUMMER GAMES
WORLD GAMES
ROCK STAR ATE MY HAMSTER
SEARCHING FOR $
?SYNTAX ERROR
READY.

So. A pig a cockroach and a lion walk into a drugstore carrying a sloth

The blinking light says come hear
Boy, but I’m less I’m a bug
Bumping into this screen, interacting
Deprived of more interaction
Every tab is a mass grave of unknown
Thoughts that never got a
Ball. A tit. A surprise bug
Under different kinds of light

Kill the animal with pills, leave no comparison to build on, discover collard greens.

I’ve been idling here like a damselfly waiting
For nature’s call to arms, to
Pummel her wings until a dead faint
Like a woman blinded
By the tragedy of death
Of love, I’ve knelt unblinkingly
In front of this blueness a sudden
Analogue
Sound
My neck crackles
At the left obscurity
Hurts to the right shades

Shouldn’t I be alone in here?

Watch them fly

They retreat to the self-skies
Hear the echo of baroque sighs
Be at peace, for they found the medicine
With better graphics and smooth is
Their transition to the self-skies
No glitch no ditch no
They don’t have to pitch their existence
Listen to the wings withdrawing through the air
Wave to tomorrow’s elves

Defying gravity, but polluted with porn
Of everyday chores, you cannot
Follow but with your senses
As they fade to the self-skies

Father to son

The guitar flowed through my blood
But you weren’t born when I was
I was born then
And back then
And way back when
My mother was born
When my grandmother was born
When my great-grandfather was born
When tomorrow was born
In the back days, in the ancient
Dinosaur days I sacrificed
Your soul and now you’re dead
The Assyrian hordes fucked the death
Out of you and now you are
Dead again
But I didn’t call them upon you
They just heard the guitar while
You didn’t

Old desire is getting fat because it doesn’t move. Lazy. Do yoga

I want to smoke weed
As a sixteen-year-old
On that summer beach
Blow the smoke into
That summer air
Drink that sixteen summer wine
Put my finger into all that sixteen
For the first time
The only thing I’ll experience
Is death
I hope
The Hindus are wrong and i don’t have to do yoga