I don’t know lots of stuff.
I’m deeply depressed
If one wants to call reality depressing
I’m simply not wanting to meet the challenge
Of life as it is.
But, I have been crying in my beer for some time.
I don’t want to meet the taste of “Real” any more.
So, what should I
Or, what can I do?
There must be something left in the positive game?
I now know reality from illusion
And it tastes bad just the same.
Tick tock, tick tock
I watch the clock
Like a stranger in nature.
Life isn’t about my dreams
It seems.
So how long have I been dreaming?
How long have humans been dreaming?
Is this something survival grabbed onto
In order to hide
From everyday’s slaughter?
What then of meaning?
In Death’s everyday eating?