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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 21:04:05 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 113475
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cataclysmic Halcyon
[time] => 2006-01-19 19:56:57
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Two hours until I hit the books. Hit the wall, this page is white, It should be black, and I’m going One hundred miles an hour very slowly freaking out. It doesn’t ***** matter what I feel or think; I can’t trust it and you may as well be nothing for it all. I’m crowding my own head, a jostling crowd in a New York subway, make room for nothing but red lies or blue truth avoided, but what is right; can a insane man trust his own perceptions? I’m tired and I feel it’s all my fault. But I always do and am I right This is a panic onset by past experiences. A flashback of a veteran in a jungle’s mud, a dog with a boot mark in its head… So I see this boot. It’s set perfectly upon me, a translucent film over a picture. A déjà vu, a nightmare to scream awake from, and I’ve seen it before. And in all this, when I remember and want to run not to trip and fall; Is it a fabrication? Why do you put up with me?? Like a burn victim at a fireshow, this, a circus of wool and dark corners. Your hand over mine, guiding me into the sunlit park? I think I want to be lonely. To implode on myself in an insane solipsism. To create a reality as cruel as I know it is. Be happy to be miserable under white suits in dark corners. I think I will never truly be happy until I can strip myself of all happiness… Never climb the stairs from a moulding dungeon, to never fall down cold stone again and again. A cold to numb all pain of bruises and broken bones to haphazardly perch precariously to protect my heart… (((Everything’s a projected ideal.))) (((a prancing game of the mind,))) (((swirling sandstorms of vanilla flavour delight my eyes))) (((to protect against a stiff-armed Reich actuality...))) [[Discrepancies of two known subjective realities, however, when faced with an obvious incommensurability, paralyze and seizure at contact like a computer faced with two differing right answers to a problem solved abstractly as opposed to algorithmically. This results in an overload of battling logical equations climaxing in a cataclysmic overheating, or ‘meltdown’ of these internal processes, reducing the ‘virtual mind’ to an equivalent of that of a severe stroke victim.]] …and so I lie collapsed on the floor, a coma of delightful proportions. My eyes of glistening crystal see exactly what they want. Like when I was a small child, reality exudes from a theatrical imagination. Eternally halcyon, forever safe from myself. [2006-01-19 14:52:21] [comments] => 1 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 75 [informant] => SensitiveSoAbused [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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