The Alex show - Episode 34

• • Making ends meet is like juggling in the dark.
    You might know the weight of it all,
    You might even know the physics of it,
    But without the comfort of sight,
    You are helpless.
    
    
    - afm

The Alex Show - Episode 33

Somewhere along these lines I have lost sight of the big picture - assuming my body still lies within a canvas these days. I would certainly not be able to tell. Though my conscious moments tend to rupture with a most mystique exuberance, I find the pallet to be faded, somewhat outdated, and sadly berated. Where did I lose sight? Then again, was it even my own sight that created the frame? I know the answers to these questions. Whether I wrote them or not, I am forced to forget until the idea of remembrance is long forgotten. Ten. Ten Commandments. Ten demands. Ten guidelines.

ASIDE: Even though the lines have been drawn, surely I can be my own guide.

I have longed to escape these boundaries. I have not been the one to make them, yet I have restored their purpose. To move off topic from this extended metaphor would only further prove my point, so I must awaken from this coma and from this fabricated comatose. How can a blind man sleep for so long when there is hardly a difference between dream and reality? If the canvas is painted black, it need not matter if the man is asleep or if he is blind. Regardless of which state I am presently in, I must urge myself to awaken. It is the only option I have, for if I am asleep, my will can prevail, and if I am blind, then it is no question as to why I lost my direction.

Revelation: A blind man can easily differentiate between dream and reality, for in dreams, he regains his sight.

- afm

Monoliths End

The wolves at night are nowhere to be found.

There's not a single howl.

There's not a single sound.

All this calm is driving me insane.

I call for clouds to come

To come and bring the rain,

But rain won't fall when you tell it to.

You cannot be brazen with a maker's view.

Control what's around you.

February, you were oh so very cold,

Kept the young and hid the old.

How was I supposed to know?

February, I could never let you go.

You kept a fraction of the whole.

Now I'm missing part m'soul.

The sky at night is nowhere to be seen.

The shades of blue and gold

Are now a blackened screen.

And if I die before I sleep

I pray the earth my body keep.

Control me, control you.

February, you were oh so very cold,

Kept the young and hid the old.

How was I supposed to know?

February, I could never let you go.

You kept a fraction of the whole.

Now I'm missing part m'soul.

Threatened by Legend

Call it legend when the cameras decode my face.

No matter how portrayed, it won't change.

Congratulations, you have won nothing.

My existence can't abate all the reasons you're afraid.

I thought I had you when the road cut short.

Oh, Deceiver, I've deceived you,

So now I'm pleased to disbelieve you.

Pray you nevermore have the strength to reach the shore

'Cause once you're back I'll settle the score.

Pray you evermore that I'm locked behind this door

'Cause once I'm out I will even up the score.

Call it legend that the door can break.

No matter how portrayed, my body still remains

Untouched, unscathed by any blade.

Design a barricade to keep my will at bay.

Pray you nevermore have the strength to reach the shore

'Cause once you're back I'll settle the score.

Pray you evermore that I'm locked behind this door

'Cause once I'm out I will even up the score.

I can't believe this,

A bane with no disdain,

Infected by the source from which it came.

Define a curse.

I'm well rehearsed with breathing fiction.

Provide me my addiction

To break hearts beyond repair.

I am blessed to breathe your air.

I am blessed to breathe you in.

I am blessed.

My blood is cold.

My bones are old,

But you still have them.

- afm

Secondary Surface

The waves create a comely scene,

A sighting so inviting that no living man can seem

To gaze away. Though once pristine,

That brilliant shore is nothing more

Than a gorgeous fallacy.

Move faster.

Disaster is right on course,

And Nature shows no signs of remorse.

Take shelter in this casket.

Decorate the catacombs.

No grave can be a home

If you're digging on your own.

The virgin ground is pure and sound,

But silence can be violent when it forces noise to drown.

The margins have been crossed,

And all is lost in the flittering of dust,

So now we must find solid-ground.

Move faster.

Disaster is right on course,

And Nature shows no signs of remorse.

Take shelter in this casket.

Decorate the catacombs.

No grave can be a home

If you're digging on your own.

In exile, you'll wonder

How you wandered this far,

How you crawled in the dark.

Unabashed by all your faults,

Unaware of all your flaws

In the darkness you will crawl back home.

You'll crawl back home,

And dig that grave all on your own.

- afm