Every dream scene was a fragment of the deepest shattered and most scattered parts of my mind and soul. But as soon as I would become aware and conscious, the characters in my dreams would reassure me that it was reality folding in on itself. When I tried to become lucid, my brain tricked me into thinking it was just another day of waking life.
I would dissolve from one plane into another, breaking out of a tormentous situation fueled by the pain of my past. These characters, some of which I’ve come to know in life, took on the personalities of the ones I’ve loved or the ones I have become so afraid of. They convinced me that this was real life. And every time I phased through, or seemingly woke up into another dream, I could not grasp onto the reality of where I was.
When I finally woke up, I couldn’t distinguish if I had just simply passed into another lifetime or another dream. Not being able to cling on to a tangible and solid idea of who I am and what I am doing in a linear fashion broke the deepest parts of my foundation.
What are our senses if not but a mode of understanding energy and light; and is there any difference from a waking or a sleeping reality? I ask myself a question that may never be fully answered.
I bask in the brutality that is this reality: pain, suffering, pleasure, bliss, and happiness. I am here to observe; but now, after last night, and for the first time in my life, I have become one with the observation, both in duality of the seer and the seen, seamlessly it seems. I am but a dream within a dream.
I am the voice of our generation I am the spark of light in the darkest nights I am the glistening sun on a building window I am the petals falling on a warm spring evening I am the moon looking back at you I am the everything I need to be I am the more than you see me to be I am the no less than we all seem to be I am the grass and the trees I am the whole and complete I am the sour but sweet I am the beat of the street I am the brick in the wall I am the stranger that picks you up when you fall I am the friend that picks up when you call I am the thought that can never be bought I am the fight that one day takes flight I am what makes the wrong things right
Mad, enraged, infuriated, make way Sad, engaged, complicated, make space
I’ll tell you what to think: Think for yourself
Don’t tell me what to do Nanny state can wait too
What is freedom if it’s flavorlessly forced? What’s worse? A chariot or hearse?
Fuck off I’m not in the mood Good things comes to those who are rude Did I just confuse you too?
See, you just did it again Disrespected yourself at your own expense and whim
Not a chance you’ll ever be expansive if you can’t think outside your little rectangle
Happiness and clarity is fought for and bought for Because nothing is truly thoughtful anymore A mind full of mindfulness couldn’t bless the hate they sprayed into our fate
Just wait Just wait Just wait
Just scroll Just scroll Just scroll
Deep pensive penetrative peculiarities Treat extensive explanations explicitly The soul has the vibrations of cosmic electricity
I asked for you to sit next to me please I asked for you to cuddle my physical extremities I asked for one more chance to be me faithfully I asked for a rectangle to act circularly I just gave back all that was given to me I asked my heart to profusely bleed And now I finally asked for one last thing…
Faster and faster Looking past the disasters of the past Time crunches as my mind dumps plastic thoughts that are no longer bought My data is stolen, shot, and it’s tried to be controlled and I know better to be aware But how much do I care that others stare How much flair will I display despair Reaching and reaching Deeper into the finest meaning My optical flow knows what I’m seeing But am I really believing It all felt right until I was told it was wrong But it’s not over until the obese female sings her song Last tune for an out of tune generation How many more times can we generate sin And apply it on the next set of human blood relations