Monday, March 16, 2015

A poem by author / poet Gary G Pelow, Are they watching?

Is there a van out there? FBI survelience? Or am  I just experiencing my psychosis? How do I know which is reality? Schizophrenia, a pain in the proverbial neck, quite a bother, masking reality like that, making life choices more difficult these delusions. How can I find peace in a world of the looking glass? Alice would know all to well this horrible schizophrenia experience, if she was real. Am I real? Are you ? There is no doubt somethings of delusional fantasy seem real enough, but are no more real than Alice's talking rabbit ith watch or the queen of hearts and her psychosis.  I am fighting monsters in me, the monster/beast of confusion and uncertany, JESUS FUCKING TAP DANCING CHRISTS, why should I be burdened with these horrible interior experiences of my broken brain? Is it no wonder  I think GOD is a lie, a fantasy, or at least , if he is real, vindictive , petty and cruel, unworthy of praise or worship that he demands of me? How fucking cruel and arrogant, this petty sky dictator, what is his game, this deity imposter? Well I march on, doing the best I CAN, keeping it legal and me out of jail, I have no desire to reach incarceration, so to the watching FBI, hello, I am not a doer of illegal things or violence, leave me to the misery of my schizophrenia.

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