im no one at all. but that doesnt cut it does it?

why dont i elaborate a little this time? lets play in character: me: im the listener and you: youre the natural talent, talking in ways i pretend not to try for; im a conduit for the conductor, transistor, im the writer and the words i transfer comes in through the compromise that comes between the real and the trick up the sleeve of god. im your relevant. and i lie, dishonest stories, to tell the truth thats hiding in anything that might be of interest to someone who listens, time to time. misunderstanding towards truth. reading for nothing, rebelling against the mundane government of common belief systems that leave little room for the real steal: the bet of your lifetime.

born with wings that were meant to fly white but flew black and sick interested, instead; father medicine drowned, mother removed her crown. freud would prescribe being locked away. jeung says, simon sees a killer in the things conceived on the other side of the things here on these papers. there, see that? been and bled: an egyptian lawmaker. arabian dancer. a chinese poet. a beggar in japan. an american dream. a spanish child with flamenco and terror in the jawline. the russian is hidden with shaving cream and sweeny todd caligraphy. bleach stained bang bangs, knock 'em dead, looks that should kill but blink instead. sunspoiled, pale as a love note. eyes that shine, they shine crazy all the time.

water snake. clothes with crisp blacks and stark whites. albino mind. bone deep urgency. got to get it all through.

a hermit, the descendant, life saver addict. idlewild. inherited an accents of cats mixed up among affects cooked up, a shot from the melting pot of transcending dangerous instincts. thinking like suspension of disbelieving.

i would like, one day i want, id like to grow up to be a real boy. high school guidance counsellers fortune tell: they say " you can be anything you want to be ... all you have to do is decide on something, you just need to choose what you want to do ... "

im not good at picking from the choices they say are the only ones left to chose. taken every choice and twisted them. theres more to it than that, you know.

and i let the surface show where it is that im heading.

watch my footing though, if you are interested in ever getting to the graveyard paradise, within the remains of what just hasnt happened yet.

one to one.

when it comes down to it this is the only identity i seem to be able to occupy all the time. the rest is irrelevant:
who?