Listen

I perceive that I am leaving myself, separated from my flesh, floating helplessly into another place. The place where there are but strangers. The place where I feel more and more like an apparition. I want to be intoxicated, but I have nothing of the nectar which intoxicates. It is fight or flight. I choose flight, and within seconds, I disappear. I go where no one can see or hear me. I talk to myself; my monologues like crumpled papers. I cry; my tears are old and reek of humidity. I resent; you never stood strong by my side. I hate. The strangers will never know me. I hate.

I could

“I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.”-Hamlet, Shakespeare

-Painting by Otto Dix

All Society's Fault.

All Society's Fault.
Originally uploaded by STANIAM

               They lied. Now look at me.