Random Musings of an Unhinged Mind

I don’t know your name, but I see you walk by every day. I want to reach out to you, talk to you, get to know you. Where are you from, where are you going? Why are you so sad?

Perhaps it’s not you who is sad. Perhaps I am merely projecting my own thoughts and opinions onto you, ideas which you have no comprehension of. You have probably never seen me, staring out into the slow traffic as you walk by in the drizzling wet rain of spring. I can’t help but stare as you pass by the window, your body language inviting but guarded.

I would love to invite you in, make you some coffee, and find out everything there is to know about you. I want to make you happy, make you feel loved. I want you to know that despite all the sadness in the world, that you can still be happy. That would make me happy.

But I can’t. Because you don’t exist. Because that window through which I watch you is one in my own mind. And that’s the saddest thing about you.

The flapping of wings, is all I hear. The city, all around me, is frozen. Silent. The cacophony of a million people stilled as if time itself were stopped. As if in a trance, I sit down at the table, but it’s as if someone else is moving my body. I am just here for the ride.

“You’re late,” she says.

I cannot deny her; I can’t see how any man could. She is not the prettiest, most attractive woman, no. But her eyes, her eyes and her voice, it is like witchcraft. Where she stares, I go, what she says, digs deep into the pit of my soul. I am but a vessel.

“You’re late,” she says.

It pierces me. She says it gently, softly, but it feels like I’ve been sliced deep across my chest. Her words, a whip with which to punish me, when she chooses, or a salve to heal my wounds. What weak will, mine.

“You’re late,” she says.

None of you have any sense. I don’t have sense. You have dollars and I have cents but that’s neither here nor there.

I heard the birds, whispering in my ears as I droned deep noises vibrating up from beneath the surface of the world. The core where I make my home. Where I sing my songs.

Do you understand what I’m saying here? There’s nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all, just what we think about but even that’s just a halucination. The Illuminati have swallowed their tongues and we create our own reality.

Angry angry angry. Nobody listens. They hear what they think but it’s just voices in their heads. Banging punching noise noise noise. I’ll hit you if you keep yelling, I’ll yell and yell and yell.

None of this makes sense. There is no sense here. Just words. No meaning. Where’s meaning? If you can find it show it to me. It’s not here. Bang bang.

Eris is unchanging change. Is She change at all?

I’ll order a sandwich.