This syndrome, this passage and I can’t hear myself. Stuck in some transfixed state, rest assured, life assured…payment protection plan and I can’t get those works out. ‘I’ll pass please sir’, watching over my shoulder, a flaming fucking reminder of the way I used to be…..

I try and falter and spill and strain, in the galaxy, a genuiness of mind, a piece of cake…one tax disk too late…trawler boat racing….fuck you I won’t do what you tell me…masses and over and over and over again.

Stop.

‘Erase and rewind, ‘cause I’ve been changing my mind’

Pondering this odd existence, planning to submit this exchange of words…. grey clouds drifting through the tainted greens of the leaves outside…It’s all a jumble. A stroll around the small decorated nature…an incessant blue strikes through my vision, propagated by upright metallic. Man-made harness, shaped from the apparent natural of the mind.

It doesn’t come, it remains hidden. I think I’ll pass.

Atropos