Needing some to take the look of worry off their faces, and realize I am just an ordinary man and not magnificent like I was once thought of by myself and others. Different in the regard, that I have fought for so long to be an individual, which in most cases has become a rare and exotic thing, and I don’t worry anymore about or care for their words of praise which just sounds like they are gargling with razor blades and singing along with the rat race choir. And I just find out all I can, and it disorientates them when they find I can turn off my feelings like I am turning off the light.

Sometimes I wonder as I make my way down the line if I know what I am searching for, and sometimes it feels as though I have been a prisoner of some sort most of my life. And I have new horizons to head to, and many don’t think I listen. But, then again I know who they are along with their self-proclaimed corpse evangelist, and maybe I have my moments when I don’t remember. And sometimes when I find myself standing at a crossroads, I know that death is not the end for the spirit never dies. And it’s only people’s games that need to be dodged, which are obstacles placed in my way. For which I took a ride on that jitterbug ride and took dancing lessons to weave around and through them.

At times losing myself and being flexible enough to reinvent myself and then reappear just when they think I have gone, and they have dug my grave and prepared to say a requiem under those bloodshot skies. Standing alone in most cases out here on these; back roads, railroad tracks, and old highways. Still, life goes on, and the self-proclaimed “masters” make the rules for both the wise men, sages, and fools to follow. Which makes it easy for me to say that I have nothing to live up to, and it makes it easy for them to criticize both outsiders and the things they don’t and will never understand. Saying nothing of any value except who to idolize.

And Still, I roam on down the line and see all those things like those painted laughing faces and hearing all the lies they speak. Making me feel like I could use somebody like you and all you know as I make my way down the line, and to wherever the Tao directs. Out here where the; poets, individuals, and the beats all live under cover and are formed. But, I mean no harm or place fault on those who push fake morals, insults and pass judgment. And it’s all right if I can’t please them while they try and defend what they cannot see with a killer’s pride in their eyes. Still, it blows their minds most bitterly to find that they won’t escape from Death’s honesty when it falls upon them, which means that their lives sometimes get lonely.

There are times when my tired eyes collide head-on with; false gods, petty jealousies, and pettiness that is known to be so rough, which has me ask: “Okay, I have had enough of those quotes from your ‘gospels’ found scrawled on the men’s room wall, now what else can you show me?” Then again I know if they could see my thoughts, and dreams, (or thought dreams), I wouldn’t be hanged on the gallows. They would make sure I would have my head in a guillotine.

You give me something I can feel in the darkest nights that have been known to be full of holes especially at the turning of twilight. Still, there might be times a trembling distant voice might be heard not very clear that someone might think they have really found what they think is the real you. Still there are too many people, too many to recall who I thought were friends of mine, and I was wrong in most cases about them all. Especially the ones who still had the nerve to say they were still my friend when I was down and they stood there grinning at what they had done.

It feels a lot of the time that inside, outside nowhere is home, and maybe they should just leave me alone. But, then again that’s life and life only, so I’ll just carry on down the line and know it’s a fine razor’s edge at times between both friend and foe.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. August 2016 – 40