paranoid perplexity
one september two thousand five
Perplexing patterns of intertwining colors…
floating through this mazework utopia.
Adventuring through this infinite knowledge.
The wings get clipped
and now I’m falling.
Falling, falling, falling.
My spirit falls back to me from its astral projection.
Mind and spirit one again
And I arise from my slumber
to find myself enclosed
By this ever-darkening prison of loneliness.
Breathe, man. Breathe.
Everything will resolve and be okay.
When you put yourself on a silver platter,
People pick at you until there’s nothing left
But blood and bones.
Oh god! The room is spinning and breathing again.
This self-conscious alienation from others kills.
I think I’ll step outside for some fresh air.
Yeah, fresh air.
That will help, fresh air.
Walking out of this dilapidated, rotting house,
I see illuminated orbs dotting the runway.
The midnight sky is tainted with grey and blue,
Incessant factories insisting
On poisoning the one thing eternal in my life.
I see a streak of light scream across the sky.
Everything will resolve and be okay.
Right?
Was this reality of mine meant to be like this?
To have people take my offerings
Then walk all over me,
Trample me into the shaggy carpet?
They don’t think twice,
Why should I?
Thoughtfulness shouldn’t be an acceptable grimace.
Maybe if everyone average
Didn’t have their “original” thoughts and ideas
Fed to them from a glowing box,
People would think twice.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Jesus, I’m freezing!
What am I doing standing naked here?
It’s the middle of December.
How embarrassing, back inside.
Hopefully those walls have calmed themselves.
Upon entry I see vibes going every which way.
The neon blues, greens, and oranges
Lead to the telephone.
Blasted telephone vibrations always getting the best of me.
I answer, its her.
The room quits spinning
The walls quit breathing
The vibes quit vibing.
“I’ll be there soon.”
It all starts back up again.
Spinning, breathing, vibing.
They speed up to make up for time lost.
This is complete insanity.
The door opens and it all subsides.
There’s an angel dressed in black
Standing in my doorway.
I’ve been blessed,
Saved from the ever-progressing hell.
“Everything will resolve and be okay, right?”
The angel answers.
“Only if you let it.”
Comfort is given in the oddest of ways,
Sometimes.
Her soft velvet face of snowy white complexion,
Brushes against mine.
And I feel as if all the paining, torturous thoughts are lifted.
I feel her silken black locks between my fingers
And I feel as if I have been carried to the heavens.
Panic attacks!
Is this my imagination?
Is this being of perfection really at my side?
Will I wake up tomorrow
Alone and bothered again?
I feel her pillow-soft hands touch mine,
The bliss returns.
I am caressed by this angel dressed in black,
Until my slumber presides.
Slowly I lose contact with this world,
And journey into another.
My mind is set free
And there is no evidence
Of any of those paranoid, problematic thoughts present.
If only I could carry one reality’s mindset
back over to the next world.
Perplexing patterns of intertwining colors…
floating through this mazework utopia.
Adventuring through this infinite knowledge.
The wings get clipped
and now I’m falling.
Falling, falling, falling.
My spirit falls back to me from its astral projection.
Mind and spirit one again
And I arise from my slumber
to find myself enclosed
By this ever-darkening prison of loneliness.
Breathe, man. Breathe.
Everything will resolve and be okay.
When you put yourself on a silver platter,
People pick at you until there’s nothing left
But blood and bones.
Oh god! The room is spinning and breathing again.
This self-conscious alienation from others kills.
I think I’ll step outside for some fresh air.
Yeah, fresh air.
That will help, fresh air.
Walking out of this dilapidated, rotting house,
I see illuminated orbs dotting the runway.
The midnight sky is tainted with grey and blue,
Incessant factories insisting
On poisoning the one thing eternal in my life.
I see a streak of light scream across the sky.
Everything will resolve and be okay.
Right?
Was this reality of mine meant to be like this?
To have people take my offerings
Then walk all over me,
Trample me into the shaggy carpet?
They don’t think twice,
Why should I?
Thoughtfulness shouldn’t be an acceptable grimace.
Maybe if everyone average
Didn’t have their “original” thoughts and ideas
Fed to them from a glowing box,
People would think twice.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Jesus, I’m freezing!
What am I doing standing naked here?
It’s the middle of December.
How embarrassing, back inside.
Hopefully those walls have calmed themselves.
Upon entry I see vibes going every which way.
The neon blues, greens, and oranges
Lead to the telephone.
Blasted telephone vibrations always getting the best of me.
I answer, its her.
The room quits spinning
The walls quit breathing
The vibes quit vibing.
“I’ll be there soon.”
It all starts back up again.
Spinning, breathing, vibing.
They speed up to make up for time lost.
This is complete insanity.
The door opens and it all subsides.
There’s an angel dressed in black
Standing in my doorway.
I’ve been blessed,
Saved from the ever-progressing hell.
“Everything will resolve and be okay, right?”
The angel answers.
“Only if you let it.”
Comfort is given in the oddest of ways,
Sometimes.
Her soft velvet face of snowy white complexion,
Brushes against mine.
And I feel as if all the paining, torturous thoughts are lifted.
I feel her silken black locks between my fingers
And I feel as if I have been carried to the heavens.
Panic attacks!
Is this my imagination?
Is this being of perfection really at my side?
Will I wake up tomorrow
Alone and bothered again?
I feel her pillow-soft hands touch mine,
The bliss returns.
I am caressed by this angel dressed in black,
Until my slumber presides.
Slowly I lose contact with this world,
And journey into another.
My mind is set free
And there is no evidence
Of any of those paranoid, problematic thoughts present.
If only I could carry one reality’s mindset
back over to the next world.