axons of evil

want is my torturer
instinct is my demon
fight and flight mechanisms
turning gears with triggers too sensitive
grinding against oiled parts creaking annoyance
shaky fear turning into avoidance
I want salvation to be woman's beauty
soft things that smell fresh and sweet
when i was young i dreamed success and creation
now i dream of finding a real sure thing
the devil may have the industries
let us have the truly amazing
the golden moments of love and suffering
the highs and lows of happiness and tragedy
without medicating, closing natural synaptic gaps
using artificial means, breaking the system
ending the bad dreams

i remember a dream where i was floating through the house.  It was black and white like an episode of leave it to beaver, or The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis maybe.  Everyone was amazed at my new skill though i found it hard to navigate through the house being pulled up to the ceiling.  I opened the door and started floating up.  I couldn't control my path, acceleration, or speed.  I looked down lazily, dreamily, traveling up.  It grew darker as i pulled away.  Soon I was in the black emptiness of space.  I thought of how lonely i was going to be up there by myself.  I imagine this fear is common.  In the land where people often sacrifice relationships, friend or family, for the ability to rise above, for a chance to breath easy.  Sometimes a little pressure will make the lungs stronger.

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