Angelo Vasquez

THE BEDLAMITE (_) by Angelo Vasquez

The longest time of my life seems to move slower…I lose track of dreams,death,and this piece of shit called life.A prisoner of everything.
In any realm I stare up and turn away,in any sphere I dissemate forming a pale ocean of color.How can one remain objective?I see the difference in the me and the awareness I am looming over at every scene,the me is suppose to speak and act,not pretend to be indifferent as an egotistical superior.
This attempt is pointless…why does thought form?Always in extremes!Rapidly fast and growing beyond measure dwarfing the quantum fluctuations that woke us or scranny decrepit weaklings falling and crawling sloth like. Determined to stay.When I sleep I feel them around my body starring at me and all I have to offer…me.Ruining the ventricle flow,running in a thought lake turning into a swamp of action less thoughts,they just form around for ages until manifested.My autopsy, necropsy and post mortem examination the one of many…initiations.Go to a forgotten world where everyone loves you and will say “what took you so long?” I was there a moment ago…I left home…I am home.
It’s no longer going to rain,to divest in this hatred and sorrow brings out gnomonic growth in demonic roar.Maladaptions will ferment an oasis, and it will bleed until the rain falls red.I insist that you just go away,this isn’t your battle and you probably have none thats fine remain painfully passive let them walk through you!Feel nothing be a cold corpse maybe no one will notice you.I’ve seen skies cry and I…did too,you idiot it was always for you!

Angelo Vasquez
CDC #G07505


Categories: Angelo Vasquez

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