Stream of consciousness, sometimes I’m inspired, sometimes I’m not, sometimes I feel like William Blake on Acid in conversation with Rumi, and sometimes I feel like a loser who can’t hold down a full time job cos he suffers from depression and delusions of grandeur. Sometimes eating CBD oil and watching Samurai movies are your only options cos there’s no one to hug you, existence seems pointless and you live in an age where honour has no value apart from among friends, and you’re all made to feel crazy for valuing something that has no monetary value.
There’s blue lightning in my third eye, a bald, black man with a shield and a spear put it there. It may be a figment of my imagination. It may be a delusion. Perhaps my delusions give my life meaning. Perhaps without delusion I would have killed myself long ago. Tomorrow I may wake up and remember all the good things; butterflies, hugs, that feeling when you’re stood by the speaker and the bass blows your thoughts away. I may. No, this existence thing, it’s certainly not all bad, is it?