» Mr. Pillowman

What do you mean by living in a dream, does it seem to you it’s the only thing I do?
Every year more dreams disappear, I fear for the moment that my mind is clear, no emotions, imagination like an implosion, layer by layer destroyed like iron and corrosion, reactive ness progressive? As if, heavily constraining your training, forever passive. What do you see when you close your eyes, a reflection of reality, or do you like to fantasize, are you up to the requirements of your environment, no ideas about where your desires, I loose track, unable to get back,

Ride the electrolytes,

Mr. Pillowman, killing me softly,

Did you know it would be like this, miss every opportunity, ideas broken like a biscuit in your hand that you forgot to eat, when you put on The Proove, the only time you “Feel the heat”, you beat the system, now what the fuck were you doing when you came up with that thought, has it brought you any satisfaction, have you accepted your fate? No, merely a distraction and a reason to hate, look at you, remember the places we went together, remember the things we went through, no matter what the distance was between us, we stayed friends, but our dreams make sure it ends. I’m not better than you but there just seem to be more things that I wanted to do, a positive view out of a room that you painted black, you saw a crack in the wall, escaped and came back!

So here I am in the late afternoon, lying in bed, trying to learn, but I’m so tired that I’m falling asleep, a deep relaxation covers my mind, easily finding it’s way amidst the noise, haste and frustration, a meditation that erases all the different faces of tedious daily life but leaves no traces. Fuck the struggle and the strife, replace it by a dream, replace the daily scheme, erase the whole scene, finally at peace, even though it seems to be fake, but I don’t care, cause my eyes see clearly when I’m not awake, I witness quietness, riot less, crying: “This is the best feeling I’ve ever had!” Trying to fly, dying to try, ask yourself: “Why am I holding myself back?” Only time knows where life goes and I like those dreams. Yes, I like those dreams.

Unseemingly unwilling to unfold the unexpected,
Unforgivable, unless you understand the unprotected,
Unrealistically unable to reply,
It’s undeniably unreliable if you don’t try,

Mr. Pillowman awake, shock treatment, repeat after me,
Awake, feathers in a stormy weather/whether you like it or not,
Take it,

Permanent taste, the neuron puts the blur on your face, fur on your face, amplifying sensors so you turn up the bass, traveling through several levels of burning displays, I dream of Cape Canaveral, cause I’m yearning for space, learning about the ways in which the universe rotates, earning a place between the X-rays and star gates, BUT I’M LOOSING IT, running at a pace equivalent to as fast as you can, but fever dreams always return to Mr. Pillowman,

Mr. Pillowman, let me sleep on you …