(revised on August 24th)
It may be deranged, I admit.
But then I try to remember what normal is…?
I’m not crazy…
I’m just an introvert, a disbeliever, and an artist.
What do you tell yourself?
I’m rambling here, sorry, let me get to what I’m saying (what am I saying?)
So I’m down in my basement/apartment right?
Staring at the ceiling in a numbed drugged-like state
It’s gotta be at least 3 or 4 in the morning
And my thoughts are all tangled up in humanity still
This rectangle light in my eyes though,
You know, the ones you usually see in offices or something,
with all the other plain white rectangles around it trying to fit in with the cool rectangular crowd?
Or is it the other way around? I don’t know.
Society is crazy not me!
Anyways, the only light is flickering and flashing above me
This happens over and over, my eyes half closed
And I swear I could see the shadow of a man on the wall
Moving closer and closer with every dark interval
The only thing I can hear is this fan to the right of me
Blowing electric wind into my ears
And its humming,
Humming and humming and humming
It becomes an ambience and I’m still gone for hours in this trance
Writing this (whatever this is) in my head unconsciously
I lay here so long I hear voices in the static,
Phantoms whispering through revolving blades
And the light still flicks shadows at the wall
like wet mud shaken from the fingers
And the ghost is leering
It is all so hauntingly beautiful
It becomes music for my spirit
And it could definitely make someone crazy
But I’m not crazy,