Things tick and they tock and they EXPLODE all around me, but my face doesn’t change, because nothing is strange. Everybody is out for themselves in this world, but is salvation found in the solemn prayer? I don’t care, as I stare at every individual stroke of genius that their parents created. A voyeur, if you will, with a skill of detailing every inch, with my thumb, then through the eyes and into the soul, eating the fleeting thoughts, which are nothing to me, and finding the core, the life within, the realness, in one second or less. Where are the stars and the moon when I want to howl? The fog and the darkness loom above the rooftop where I stand, alone in this crying city. The bridge isn’t far, if you feel like jumping. The ocean is where I need to be, washed away in sweet sleep, every particle dissipated equally into the slip stream, becoming the ocean myself and letting the ocean become me. One. Again, the fire within the city walls calls, blood boiling, I can hear its beating heart. I yearn for the desolation that I never find, as we are all alone, together. Lights flicker in the waves of the city, the paper skyscraper, insignificant after all. Who cares if I spit upon the roof of the rich? The rich? Well, they have no reason to bitch. I’m sure they’ll find one anyway, after all, they do know that what they have is hollow, and me? Well, i’m not even really here, invisible in the city terrain. No fanfare to make you aware of the party, but it’s happenin’, right here and now, this is the spot where the flames get hot.
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