Scrawl on the Wall 003

The machine just keeps spinning; the cogs and wheels just keep on going. Wish I could turn back the lever, and zip around, free to see the world as I like. Fast, and then slow, then like it never even was.

I just want to sit back and breathe the vacuum, experience the ecstasy, and exist beyond all space and time.

But I'm trapped in the slow, physical body, which just steps sleepwalking from one moment to the next.

I am not the master of reality; I am not even the captain of sanity. I'm just some strange son of a bitch into profanity, my life wrapped up in tales of inanity.

I got no way forward, and no way back, just take things as they come and try to play cool, be calm and slack.

There's just no hope when you've got no skills, when you just live for the moment and cheap thrills.

You end up screwing some random person who smells of cheap perfume and drink and drink until you forget.

It's not so bad, if you can get it.
But it's not so good when you do.