Radio Station of Me.

Am I alive?

If you look at this life as whole;
even though you cannot, -BZZZkkkSSt-


Deaf ears and ignorant words flowing from the gleefully jabbering jaw.
A rowdy room with a fat white man pointing to a smiling childs doom.
Pontificating lifestyle changes to a junky indulgence and swift isolation all with -Click-Click-Click-

The following is a message from you.

To wake up, I need a form in which to pour myself, no longer can I burst forth with such wild abandon of originality; I need the common moniker of dependency and consistency. We humans do not shed our metaphorical skins in cyclical existence, but don them slowly as an arthritic old man covers his aging body after a bath, covering up our old worn through thoughts.

Do you hear me?

What goes in an outward direction of an existing gravity well and does not have enough force to exit said gravity well will reach peak velocity before finally losing momentum.
-BZkkZZKSSTkT-

This world saddens me,
I wish to take a trip, away.

Author's Note

This was written by Ben Lingemann.
Please do not plagiarize, All Rights Reserved.