The mannerisms of each states are altered, perceptions shifting, conclusions like clouds Different expressions surface Each as eager to prove itself as the ultimate style Each mood is a font Each thought a character And they shift through my mind Passing True, but not passing through time Moving through nothingness these beautiful symbols all not meaning quite as much as they wished they did, as they intended to No one understands Anything Because everything means everything Where yes could mean no and no yes, do it don’t and please stop I approached death and they waited for me, they all did, patiently With no pressure except the one from life yet I pulled back, because it gets harder and harder to die each time I do And what if… And I don’t remember anymore what’s in the water, if I’m a shark or a frog or a crocodile And I sucked his cock and my mothers nipple And I remembered being a baby but I had the power to stick here so I did but why and While every notion witnesses of its opposite Every culture it’s counter Because you’re not supposed to jump in and out of style Or change keys without following rhythm The question remains what do you catch in this wild mountain stream And what remains white noise The noise becomes a familiar song That was always there If one can choose perspective in reality doesn’t that indicate that there is a reality? And not as in realism Which is merely a style The reality that releases it In a sound isolated room remains the sound of your heart and brain And when dying hearing is the last sense to go The body become light and you cannot feel anything But anything doesn’t mean anything A reassuring face letting you know it’s ok. You can go there And you go But you don’t find it and you find yourself as a self again In a corridor with milk cartons on the floor and you’re drawn back to the hell we call reality unknowing why and how, because you didn’t want to or did you because you love tragedy which is entertaining or are you just confused again trying to name it, spell it And the zombies keep dancing in their rhythm and you follow them in the darkness all though it is light outside because it’s noon, and you know that all though there are no windows. All these people pass you, touch you Someone strokes by your dick but you don’t remember who. And you get used to it and this as well as well as