Late at night I replay the days events; things I wish I could have said and things I regret saying; unspoken zingers; radiating out in the form of mumbles with my head to the floor looking at my two left feet. Like Dylan once stated ” I got a head full of ideas and they’re driving me insane”
The thoughts swirl around my head like a hurricane of ideas and theories which will only be published in the magazine of my mind; where I am the only subscriber; 35 years strong; this publication.
My body aches from a hard day’s work and my mind is mush from the symphony of chaotic noises I must endure; endlessly on repeat; ad nasuem. In fact ,I wonder when all of us are gone; who will be the one to turn down the radio of consumerism; since no one is there to buy their concept of happiness; no one to half heartedly sweep the floor; while the old men up top; chomp cigars and crunch numbers.
If this is freedom; than walk me back to my cell; where I can be alone; twiddling my thumbs until I am released and able to be a free man. Just leave me be; but do me a favor: can you at least give a notepad and a pen. I’ll send out my writing to a trained pigeon to spread my word of despair to the masses.
And by the way none of this makes sense to me either and that’s the way I like it.
Be cool, my friends.