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Description
A car just went by. The drums kick up, the guitar swirls upwards, and I get lost for a moment. Someone lets loose a scream. The air conditioning is humming and I notice my cat four inches to the right of the monitor staring at me as the music takes on a constant tone that\'s barely enough to get annoying, but it\'s adding to the music at the same time. My eyes see the keyboard, but my mind sees her eyesfacehairchestlegshands... A scream. I wonder what kind of car just went past. The air conditioner adds nicely to that tone in the song as a drum battle wages- the left speaker lets loose a riff, then the right, then the left, then right, then both in unison and I\'m shocked at the skill involved. But the cat cocks his head and I\'m looking into his eyes and seeing her eyesface... Guitar picks back up. My hair\'s in my eyes and it\'s late, but I can\'t do anything right now because I love her. Wait, what? What\'s that? My friend is hallucinating, he says he just walked up to the edge of reality and saw the universe through a glass wall. Funny, I do that every night alone in bed and every day with her in bed. Reality\'s on a short fuse- things are revolving around either her or existance itself lately, I can\'t figure out which anymore. Maybe both and the world between this town and reality itself doesn\'t matter anymore. Maybe I don\'t care about politics and global affairs because I have too much to worry about ratifying my own existance and finding new ways to make her feel like heaven. She deserves no less. Things are spinning, a phone conversation in the speakers reminds me of one two and a half months ago that split the world like this. It\'s nicer, though. A half completed project comes to mind as the song changes, and 45,000 others which never even got that far threaten to resurface right alongside. I leave them just under the surface and use them as a bridge to get away from the one that sparked it all. The Matrix punches me in the face which reminds me of the Merovingian / Illuminati / Rennes le Chateau / Occult / Tool / a friend off at boot camp who should be online listening to me rant about what amounts to the same old \'Kill the king\' crap you heard the day you stopped believing the words of the government. Of course, I convince myself it\'s all different because it\'s me, I convince others that things can actually happen and work, but here I am typing and I think ifwhenif I post this I\'m going to name is UNTITLED - NOTEPAD. Nobody will get it, it\'ll be a joke that\'s funny only to me! Ha ha! Wait, it\'s not a joke, and everyone will get it. It\'s just stupid. Intelligence claimed me, not the other way around. Tomorrow I\'ll spark a revolution that will change the way you perceive everything and radically modify the way the world works, but only if I don\'t hear her tell me that she loves me. The world is spared until that day comes, but then, I never said anything about my beliefs as to whether or not she means it. Of course she does, but what if she realizes she\'s the thing standing between me and going on a rampage through our culture? Then she might not. Or she might love me again, she surprises me like this sometimes. But the song changed again and the cat is still staring at me and maybe I should go to sleep. But I don\'t know that I\'m tired, so why would I go to sleep? I\'m too stupid, sometimes I should smack some sense into me. But then I do and I don\'t get any sense other than that, shit, that hurt. Itching surfaces with a memory of why it itches- sunburn and a day of love with a girl I wanted for years and have had for two and a half months. Did the AC stop? No, it\'s still there, and it\'s hot outside and the cat is starting to creep me out because he never stands that still for that long. I\'m not sure there\'s a keyboard anymore, it just seems that things appear on the screen as fast as I can think them. I type fast, you know. Scares people, but then they get more scared because it\'s me and I\'m kinda scary sometimes. I have long hair, and that scares people who find long hair scary. Get it? I don\'t. Explain it to me, but not with words. I\'m going to pull out the sparks of intelligence and make them into a poem, that\'ll make me like everyone else who does abstract poetry. Streams of consciousness sometimes ripple around and make little fountains of brilliance, things like \'Reality\'s on a short fuse\'. Who said that? I read that somewhere. Oh yeah, I typed it a few minutes ago, that\'s where I saw it. Music changing again, music changing almost as fast as my mood and my concentration and the cat\'s eyes are now four inches from a fly that\'s fifteen feet away from me. I feel like singing, so I turn up the speakers and sing until my throat actually makes sound three minutes into the two minute song. Oh well, it was worth a try, maybe tomorrow will let me sing better than today. Oops, hey, look, it\'s tomorrow. Tomorrow is when you wake up in the AM and stay awake long enough to see AM roll back around, like right now. See, tomorrow comes. The trick is getting back to yesterday by staying awake all the way back through to PM, or maybe you could just drop acid and realize that, instead of moving just back and forth through days you could look off to the left and see what it was like yestermorrow and tomoday. Oh, it\'s the end, maybe I should get around to welcoming you to Michael Dewar\'s stream of consciousness at 1:00 AM after a hot summer day where nothing really happened worth telling. Oh, hi there, wait until I tell you about my day today, you\'ll just die...

Description
A car just went by. The drums kick up, the guitar swirls upwards, and I get lost for a moment. Someone lets loose a scream. The air conditioning is humming and I notice my cat four inches to the right of the monitor staring at me as the music takes on a constant tone that\'s barely enough to get annoying, but it\'s adding to the music at the same time. My eyes see the keyboard, but my mind sees her eyesfacehairchestlegshands... A scream. I wonder what kind of car just went past. The air conditioner adds nicely to that tone in the song as a drum battle wages- the left speaker lets loose a riff, then the right, then the left, then right, then both in unison and I\'m shocked at the skill involved. But the cat cocks his head and I\'m looking into his eyes and seeing her eyesface... Guitar picks back up. My hair\'s in my eyes and it\'s late, but I can\'t do anything right now because I love her. Wait, what? What\'s that? My friend is hallucinating, he says he just walked up to the edge of reality and saw the universe through a glass wall. Funny, I do that every night alone in bed and every day with her in bed. Reality\'s on a short fuse- things are revolving around either her or existance itself lately, I can\'t figure out which anymore. Maybe both and the world between this town and reality itself doesn\'t matter anymore. Maybe I don\'t care about politics and global affairs because I have too much to worry about ratifying my own existance and finding new ways to make her feel like heaven. She deserves no less. Things are spinning, a phone conversation in the speakers reminds me of one two and a half months ago that split the world like this. It\'s nicer, though. A half completed project comes to mind as the song changes, and 45,000 others which never even got that far threaten to resurface right alongside. I leave them just under the surface and use them as a bridge to get away from the one that sparked it all. The Matrix punches me in the face which reminds me of the Merovingian / Illuminati / Rennes le Chateau / Occult / Tool / a friend off at boot camp who should be online listening to me rant about what amounts to the same old \'Kill the king\' crap you heard the day you stopped believing the words of the government. Of course, I convince myself it\'s all different because it\'s me, I convince others that things can actually happen and work, but here I am typing and I think ifwhenif I post this I\'m going to name is UNTITLED - NOTEPAD. Nobody will get it, it\'ll be a joke that\'s funny only to me! Ha ha! Wait, it\'s not a joke, and everyone will get it. It\'s just stupid. Intelligence claimed me, not the other way around. Tomorrow I\'ll spark a revolution that will change the way you perceive everything and radically modify the way the world works, but only if I don\'t hear her tell me that she loves me. The world is spared until that day comes, but then, I never said anything about my beliefs as to whether or not she means it. Of course she does, but what if she realizes she\'s the thing standing between me and going on a rampage through our culture? Then she might not. Or she might love me again, she surprises me like this sometimes. But the song changed again and the cat is still staring at me and maybe I should go to sleep. But I don\'t know that I\'m tired, so why would I go to sleep? I\'m too stupid, sometimes I should smack some sense into me. But then I do and I don\'t get any sense other than that, shit, that hurt. Itching surfaces with a memory of why it itches- sunburn and a day of love with a girl I wanted for years and have had for two and a half months. Did the AC stop? No, it\'s still there, and it\'s hot outside and the cat is starting to creep me out because he never stands that still for that long. I\'m not sure there\'s a keyboard anymore, it just seems that things appear on the screen as fast as I can think them. I type fast, you know. Scares people, but then they get more scared because it\'s me and I\'m kinda scary sometimes. I have long hair, and that scares people who find long hair scary. Get it? I don\'t. Explain it to me, but not with words. I\'m going to pull out the sparks of intelligence and make them into a poem, that\'ll make me like everyone else who does abstract poetry. Streams of consciousness sometimes ripple around and make little fountains of brilliance, things like \'Reality\'s on a short fuse\'. Who said that? I read that somewhere. Oh yeah, I typed it a few minutes ago, that\'s where I saw it. Music changing again, music changing almost as fast as my mood and my concentration and the cat\'s eyes are now four inches from a fly that\'s fifteen feet away from me. I feel like singing, so I turn up the speakers and sing until my throat actually makes sound three minutes into the two minute song. Oh well, it was worth a try, maybe tomorrow will let me sing better than today. Oops, hey, look, it\'s tomorrow. Tomorrow is when you wake up in the AM and stay awake long enough to see AM roll back around, like right now. See, tomorrow comes. The trick is getting back to yesterday by staying awake all the way back through to PM, or maybe you could just drop acid and realize that, instead of moving just back and forth through days you could look off to the left and see what it was like yestermorrow and tomoday. Oh, it\'s the end, maybe I should get around to welcoming you to Michael Dewar\'s stream of consciousness at 1:00 AM after a hot summer day where nothing really happened worth telling. Oh, hi there, wait until I tell you about my day today, you\'ll just die...