An Honest Question

How do they do it?

how do they just go to work every morning
how do they come home
and just doze off in front of a various assortment of screens

how do they repeat this cycle for so long
how do they sleep
knowing that tomorrow will just be more of the same

how do they just follow this path
how they die
with so little so show for

Red Letter Day

On this red letter day
when someone is punished simply for drawing
punished for expressing
punished for bringing humour

I'm more inspired than ever
inspired to fight for what's right
inspired to not to give in to the bullies

who called us names
back when we were doodling in school
and who now resort to violence
because they weren't taught the price of freedom
is that everyone gets a say

On this eve of the new year

On this eve of the new year
as darkness descends upon us
and the rockets start firing
when past is, for just a moment, forgotten
that one time when we can just focus on the present
and what's to come
That's when you'll see her
that one creature
that I desire
over all

Here's to the next calender
here's to her.

Dullwit

The rewards are said to be fleeting
oh how they were in the know
you usually think "If I do this, then everything will be OK"
and no more of all the dullwit


Liken your urge to an empty stomach
it will never stay full forever
and I've heard you shouldn't even try
but what do they know

Millennial Angst

It's an odd time to be alive in;
I'm sure others have felt this way before
But the future has never been so near
some folks make the claim that it's already here
everything seems to be in a limboish state
a transitional period perhaps

The Net really has changed everything
even the very act of which I am guilty of doing right now (06:41, 22.Oct-2014)
seems stupid, redundant, childish, nostalgic and out of date
"The Millennia has passed Mr.! (or Ms./Mrs. if that is what you prefer)"
And who the fuck still writes with pen and paper?
 What are you going to do with it? Release it as a paperback book-thing?
Stores are closing, jobs are a threatened species and everything is a cliché
Ever this, these very words that you have just read, this millennial angst as well.
"Just consume, man. You'll be fine, dude. You'll feel good, dawg."

Well, that's a page, so I'll stop here.
These are strange days indeed.

Priests in the Early Morning Dew

In that early morning hour
and I mean that really early one
when the sun is just a tiny bit too tired
and all the folks haven't quite risen yet
The distant street lights
almost hovering a few meters above sea level
For a fraction of a ½ second I thought I saw a rabbit
who knows if the sheep have awakened
I haven't noticed a rooster quite yet

And oh, the usefulness of the roadside-priests
guiding our way through this pitch black darkness
who knows, but perhaps they're supposed to be an aligory of real life.
But as someone once mentioned: "It's kinda funny how there are so many of them"

The End of Daydreams

I know I used to have them
Those long walks inside my head
strolling through the gardens of thought
a small walk besides the memory grove
feeling the winds of electrifying beaches 
and jumping through loops of neurons
hiding behind lumps of fat
hissing at other things like that

I don't have those anymore
some say it's the end of daydreams