My Luna Lover

I can't see it but I can feel it in the air like a thousand butcher knives, hung facing downward from a low ceiling.

Tonight, my lunacy translates to its literal meaning and its scorn is the big, white ass in the car door window. Damn that demon bitch with her palid white eye opened at full and staring through cloud colored glasses so she can be felt but unseen in this maniacal coffee bar filled with junkies. My moon is the calmest of them all creating virulent madness in her devious hidden corner of the coffee bar sky.

A Late Night Snack

Girls.

Everywhere they pollute our town smelling like fresh laundry and Donna Karen. Their high pitched squeals speak of "boys" and other random blather as their clip clopping is reminiscent of gilded clidesdale mares.

Pumped prepubescently out of "NOVA," they meander our town with the hunger for "fun" and more alchoholic musk to cloak their various individual vapid personalities, scathed by the fact that they are indeed students bound on kicking their legs in the air like spoiled children for a rod of some king Midas.

Ugh, humans are humans because they dwell in the realm of reality. Those of us who live outside it as watchers are only demi-humans or demi-gods with a pen twice as sharp as a sword. Fixing our eyes on them and attuning our senses to them helps us realize that we are different. What was it like to think like they do? To remember reality? To be tied down to the daft and depressing norm?

I hate them as I feel the torn off wings of my back refusing to open because they're no longer there. I hate them because I can no longer cross the gate of death because I disagree with their creation and existence. As I bring one of these creatures to a darkened street to drain them of their life force till they turn to sand, I look into her very short life and laugh hysterically in the face of God for its impermenance...

Thoughts in the Grocery Store

Madness. Nothing but the yellow and red, dark aura of carnage and chaos filling and surrounding me like a pack of hungry, wild dogs that have cornered and torn to shreds, a defenseless chipmunk. The burden and weight of it all makes me delirious and dizzy. People and things seem foreign and when I do recognize something there's never a positive memory attached. My gut acts like it wants sex and my head can't make up its mind on whether I want to eat or not. The world is like The Gravatron and I'm both pressed into a wall by gravity and trying to move freely in Newton's logical world and spinning violently out of control to find 10 seconds of solace at a time. My stomach hurts and my head aches like I'm drunk and I haven't touched a drop. I almost wish I could get positively wasted just to have something familiar to relate this to but here I sit; enclosed; enraptured by Satan. Madness.