Psychotic Reaction

j i am controlling to the motherboard that i am listening to the hippest tune in the uni-verse.

read by, and played by metaphiscaly WHITE light WHITe heat.

this is my shit attempt at poetry.

talk talk, blabber.

fo don’t cha know you’ll stain the carpet??!?

my wrist hurts.

man, she is doin’ like sister ray says.

potential is the race of the singular. as in flight, a species as in one whom makes the attempt to categorize subjects (and things). but this is what we shouldn’t focus on. And this.

i’ll state why.

it’s a hazard. it’s a mood. a perpendicular rotation of a flight of ideas. it’s madness really. a whole lot of nonsense. i ain’t nobody, but still i say. Hey! my name’s Paul. anndjkiejmo comin” ache you like a kangaroo reaching for a donut. this is not ain’t no pizza hut, never was. as long as my back feels fine i don’t know why i would settle for less.

here comes the police -they’re comin’ to take me for a ride ride. do it, i said just likie sister ray says. fucker. i thought this song was over (but still 8, 8, minutes left!)

so i unfold everything. And put all thoughts and consequences out on a plate. drip a waterfall of syrup and i’ll have myself tasty waffles.

it’s a hazard!! full of shit.

if you?? were to attack me. and say it was horseplay.

i wouldn’t believe it.

so i say to you. this life that you dream, you don’t believe in the hallucinatory effects and stimulation’s of such use. i repeat, and for say. it may be unsatisfactory but what exactly is the problem? a drunk driver kills a person, it is the person’s fault (not the car). so hence apply. if someone overuses and abuses a substance… it is the person’s fault, not the substance.