Not quite sure if this is all real,
This life, this world, it seems so surreal.
I always feel lost, unsure of my direction,
I pay close attention though; it’s for my own protection.

My affective forecast often appears blue, and although blue is my favorite
color; the forecast does not look so bright. However, when I arrive at the
moment in time I feared I’d dread,
It’s not so bad; it was all in my head.
Knowing this, why do I still subject myself to such madness? Do I welcome
sadness?

Had this gone a different way would this be a different day?
How far away can one man stray?
From day to day, happiness and then dismay.

What say you?
Are you cuckoo?

Do you feel the same but won’t explain,
Instead you live in pain and entertain the thoughts,
In your cranium…here comes pandemonium,
Delirium.

The serpent’s serum, wont you say?
In the devils juice doth my mind play.

And again today I cannot sleep,
My thoughts piled, stacked deep,
A whole heap of madness, and oh boy,
All for me to keep.

I hope it seeps from within,
Are you ill as well my friend?
Everyone is staring at me. Why so?
I wish you’d ask permission,
And if you did, I’d say no.

Your eyes make me twitch at my pinky-toe.
You’re supposed to be a friend not a foe, I’ll crush you if you stare at me
though.

Iridescently illuminating my quixotic idealism,
I contemplate further insecurities we surely share...

Do you think your ugly, fat, or have bad hair?
Do you hate it when people stare?
Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ here!

Sleeping seems to be such a solvent of so many selections.
Solutions are invaluable when solving stereotypes so that
We may see the idiocracy and not succumb to the idea of social statuesque
that is the syringe of society.

“SHUT UP JACOB!” “NO! YOU shut up!”

“Jeremy!? Honey are you talking to yourself again?”

Jeremy Alan Campbell © 2003

 
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