static fills the air

the hair on my arms stands up

a hum fills the room

ossicles vibrate and form a bridge to the oval window

like when the cicadas are out in force and it pervades everything

all shakes on cue

all shakes on cue

i’m starting to think my imaginary friend is real and i am his imaginary friend

this is the land of lollipops and blonde haired blue eyed fish

what kind of twisted universe is it that makes the constant threat of discharge seem like a pangean pictogram of dischordiant harmonies

and all shakes on cue

my life had been reduced to one man rave in a cave with sad music blaring

my glow stick is limp

slowly rocking back and forth in a four time waltz of depressive mania

when my mania kicks in i do one of two things

one

i become obsessed with certain images

drowning

burning

electrified

and then insanely write them over and over until it is dead and faded away and the newest tortured dream comes into play

or two

the one i’m in currently

mr robot marathon

or something similar

usually dark and stark and with a splash of depression

my mom crocheted and knitted when i was a kid

i hated them because they were itchy

but when the wind is howling and it is twenty below wind chill you sit in itchy warmth

my depression is one of those blankets

i can’t keep warm in here

so i pull it up to my neck and

all shakes on cue

all shakes on cue

it doesn’t even make sense in my head

any of it

one errant step

shuffled feet

it all goes up in one burst

i feel like the narrative i am living is being told out of order

the best part of loneliness and misery

never a drought of words