psychosis of dreams
Psychosis of Dreams | I am Crosby. Demented and young and old. And sad. Let me die one day. I know it’s coming. But while I wait, why don’t I just spread a little magic? No magic. Just a little bit of hot pink sparkles into the air. And let them swirl and inspire the world. Let them cry and break down. Let them see that to be human is to be weak. To be human is to rise above. To be human is to fade out. So I fade out. Two minute nap and I’m all business. I’m a cornered animal too. We all are. We just don’t see ourselves that way.
OH THE SOUNDS OF MY HEART. THEY MAKE ME SING INTO THE FIFTY PERSON RING. SOUND PENETRATES THE WALLS OF SKULL. AND MAKES EVERYONE AROUND STOP AND CRY. LEFT WATCH. RING LEFT TOO. BUT THE RIGHT HAND OVER YOUR HEART. LET’S CONNECT IN AN UNCANNY WAY. I AM TIRED. I AM FRAIL. I AM MADE OF GOOD FIR WOOD. BUT I’LL DIE ONE DAY TOO. NOT LIKE THE MARBLE SCULPTURE OR THE METAL ONE. BLESS YOUR MEMORIES FOR THEY’RE ALL WE HAVE. THEY’RE ALL YOU HAVE.