Just so that you can read it...

When the private world becomes public,

And secrets are told to strangers,

We are liberated.

 

Our bite of the apple, our addictions, are the opiate of the populace,

Our delusions, Our world,

That has been taken apart,

Is left with pieces no one knows what to do with.

 

We chase, run, the human psyche is a wonderful, confusing thing,

Flummoxed like walking through Sanskrit,

An aviary of societal norms,

Where we feel the acrimony of being too scared to create,

Yet feel the vicarious thrill of our neighbour shuddering and snuffling from

A night of running red lights and white lines

 

Our litany of complaints will never be heard,

Everything is transient, everything is unfulfilled,

You are your bemusement, you just are.

 

BUT! Dreaming ties us together,

Underneath this encumbrance of dissatisfaction and a life

That has turned into a worthless fiasco,

You are infinitesimal to the world,

But what you should do,

Is journey,

Drive,

Sink,

Dive,

And let your confusions guide you through the journeying,

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

 

I have a dream,

That nothing is as perfect as you think it can ever be,

But I am complacent.