armed with a plunger he stares down into the toilet bowl, as the waste he’s just expelled captivates him & a whole swirl of ideas comes flooding like a parade of pummeling
there was a time when the delusional blamed what they termed “evil” on “creatures,” “spirits” & “demons”--- all were meant to terrify the living whilst at the same
devoid of motivation, emptied & without ideas, creative vision, focus or the ability to brainstorm, s/he enters the night out through the door to her/his dwelling, to define what it is to
megalomaniac wakes up one early morn with a brand new personal plausible excuse & this will be the answer of all answers for her/him, so that s/he may beat upon the drum
one night i dreamt i was surfing in cyberspace & many images flickered in Adobe Flash with every movement made, every keystroke & slide of the mouse to & fro,