Nothing Reality

There is a sense of reeling that I am feeling today.  I try to write through it.  As I sit here KOMODO threatens this and that.  I have anxiety about being so fat.  Everything twists and turns and I wish for a clearing.  The NFL of Sunday gives way to the blank slate of Monday.  I move through and find the blade of all nations evisorating my identity.  I know that the man had a gun in back, but I just walked away.  Psychos in vicinity.  Let's kill the idea of infinity.

People behind the scene in Indy.  Andy I am not any industry and I don't wish to be.  Drink a glass of wine for me and I will stick to Diet Vanilla Coke.  You were boss in your mind, but I think my new VOODOO aquaintance has found her niche in that felon LGC crew.  You have no excuse for your abuse.  Judgement is cruel and brisk in reality.

I don't wish to be with anybody.  I wish to be myself.  I want to wakeup without witchery all over me, and with no pain and fatigue.  Purity is reality.  Avarice is your reality.  It is neither professional nor sweet.  Civil Rights do stand and so she can move around freely every day.  There is a kingdom come, but now I am extremely numb.

See me yes, but touch me no.  I have a bit of vertigo.  I am not part of any show.  Freeze all the pressure to achieve will give way to the reality of the feed.  Vipers on the perifory are coming for all of yee.  Do nothing lest they record and report you to police.  My thought is a bit brief and loose.   The result is me sitting at the bar in Bearcats, Indianapolis with a beer.  It is a memory and now I am at least free to say it.  Alan Parker has done the deed, and now he appears more zombie than dead.  Voodoo is afoot thus I keep clean and relate to all scenes.  It is all just brilliant imagination, right?  None of my pain is real.  Well ladies of witchery and demonry, that is not the case.  I have sensitivity to the nth degree.  Pain pain insane pain.