No man is an island.
I am city-state rome. Maybe a bit ridiculous like an empire,
But chaos is home. Bubbling unrest, under the surface fire.
Imagine my brain like the senate, with little me’s in togas.
Arguing over penance, and a few with pictures of Sara Jean’s Yoga.
The weird part is, no matter how hard I try to be Brutus,
It’s like render that which belongs to Caesar, unto Caesar.
And if we can never forget the guy with the knife, all we render is life.
But maybe I’m just a little unhinged, singed by the glory of hate.
So I’ll add more gibberish to my repertoire, so it’ll feed off my reservoir,
of Nonsense and in a sense, I think I feel better.
But not like it matters, I have drugs, booze, and suicide. Like my favorite author said, “I’d feel very trapped in this life, if I couldn’t kill myself at any point.”
Maybe I’m coming around. Maybe I should stop chasing second hand dreams.Maybe I thought I was in a different movie. That’s probably why I felt so miscast. A dud among the stars, maybe it’s time to become. Free form is fun for a little while but I’ll take my greivances and settle on a fixed paradigm. Because maybe it’s time for me, to step aside and let be.
I can work nine to five monday to friday to saturday to sunday to sleep. Occassionally breaking my slumber for a night out with the rest of the underachievers. Same stale beer over the same sultry (sometimes simply sad) stories sipped at a bar. But the reward is form. Stability. So shout out to the middle aged grumblers and hometown stupor drunken stumblers, I seek to rejoin your ranks because I’m bored being nobody. I could keep running but the world seems duller and swamped with grime. Where do I want to go? West? Granted, it would take only a few months of my time to save up enough to keep running. But from my experience if you run, from anything, you give it something to chase. To haunt. Well, to my dreams and nightmares alike I say, fuck off.
Besides, I’ve secretly always liked the hermit moniker. I think I’ll take it.
what becomes of little boys who run away from home? The world keeps getting bigger, once you’re on your own.
On the nickel, when you’re over there.