This ain't the Dakota

I'm Joey, pretty simple.

So,

I was just stumbling, and it brought up the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy’s definition of Existence…I am way too high to concur that tonight. Thanks anyway

A Story

That’s why you’re here, right.  To see something that you normally wouldn’t.    Like a child before bed, awaiting the evenings dreams. We all want to be amazed.  To look at the world in awe. 

 

We all feel so very small in this world, and hope that our lives will have purpose. Meaning. Stories can help us find that purpose, or at least give us a naive glimmer, that everything will be ok in the end.  

 

The beauty of a story is, well just that.  It is, and always will be a story.  Just out of reality’s grip, longing to be told.  But stories are never truly over.  They are alive, if even as only a whisper.  Influencing those who hear.  And to those that listen, changing the very fabric of reality.  

 

Now then, are you listening?

In a hospital gown day off from being tied down in recreation

Swinging a paddle at mental patients

Raping the competition to smother the pain and sin,

So he pound you out in table tennis like Wang Liqin

Too strange within just to stop

Demented interaction sleep and thoughts documented

He’s lingering insane paint thinner in his vein

Colors blown out around the doctors finger in his brain

With a needle unable to beat him in a fetal position

He crafted a path to escape his condition

Would cling to the white walls the psych halls

In his mind soon bled the words he would speak to the world in time,

But not before more injections strapped to the bed

Until the psycho-tropics took hold of the rap in his head

When his wrists released, he wrote tunes you could snoop through

Day of release said, “Depart from me, I never knew you.”