Dreamer

Table top admissions being counted like rising ticket sales, pulling the plug on the lamp as the shadow begins to cover my pupils. Following my own way and dismissing the title of pupil, one way street being rode blindfolded and with no hands but my knowledge is increasing the acceleration. Crushing the limit of how far someone can go within an lifetime, finding myself miles ahead of the race for normality, lips pressed to the air in front of me and giving the finger to the end of normal. No middle ground to what others believe is the path, bulldozing my path through what you believe and putting the foundation for something new in your lap, wishing you the enjoyment from the dance you will receive but hoping that you last long enough to see the end. Ending the old with an orgasmic taste of something neoteric and banging the stems so you can see the sights of the race, one by one filling your bleak vision momentarily with new sensations so you become addicted and when you’re ready just send your thanks to your friendly neighborhood Duce Wayne.