Well, what now? This world will roll and roll, while all about the chaos reigns. It's scary, disturbing, sad. Why a window? Why? It's a bad trap, but hard to avoid, no matter how obvious it is, how alerted to it I may be. Hard to get around.
Images from across the globe,
static movement along strobe,
a person miles away
placed in houses on display,
no question as to how their feelings lay,
they never come close to turning away.
Along the electric highway
the dreams and nightmares come,
shocking the mind with extremes,
leaving us despairing when done.
Maybe some have grown to accept it all, but who are they for doing so? What have they given up or added on to their souls?
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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