Thorazine is my fuel now. I'm supposed to utilize its indication for protracted nausea, but (wink, wink), its also used in the treatment of disorganized and psychotic thinking. State makes me an addict to stay in their throws, to remain a non-threat to myself, and even less of one to others. I'm literally drooling bliss and having hysterical conversations with cups of cranberry coctail juice. I can't figure out if I'm playing checkers with a tic-tac-toe board or tick-tac-toe on a checkers board. Perhaps I'm just watching ESPN2. I hope that's the case, 'cause Kit Hoover is really pretty.
In a span of 10 minutes I'm accused of being a white father-in-law, a cracker, and a nicotine patch thief. I plead grinning to all charges and wait for Johnny Cochran to interceed. As if. My head barely spins and I smile at all, and all smile back. Suddenly, I'm accused of stealing a birthday and I giggle. The house folds and we're all put to bed. I'm given permission to shave, but only if I have a chaperone. Razors are dangerous on this edge of the night. My beard sinks without incident and I sleep with glorious floating dreams void of love, life, and anything everlasting.
Time stand still
I'm not looking back
But I want to look around me now
Time stand still
See more of the people and the places that surround me now
Freeze this moment a little bit longer
Make each sensation a little bit stronger
Experience slips away
I turn my face to the sun
Close my eyes
Let my defenses down
All those wounds that I can't get unwound
Summer's going fast, nights growing colder
Children growing up, old friends growing older
Freeze this moment a little bit longer
Make each impression a little bit stronger
Experience slips away...
The innocence slips away
Music by Lee and Lifeson. Lyrics by Peart.
No comments:
Post a Comment