fever.

i'm eating my own face. all the babies everywhere are dropping their pacifiers in unison. every day it seems the stink grows. i don't even know who's watering it. and the people in the institution, they think i'm one of them. i only listen because my legs are too tired to run. spew your feces. spew your mess. it's either too mundane for me to care or too caring for me to sustain. when i see your face, all i see is a caricature. when i hear your voice, all i hear is monotone blabber. i try hard to pay attention but the image twists into a vortex. you need to shock me to maintain my focus. everything is blood red now. everything is bleeding into each other. the images... the sounds... the feelings... what feelings? a hole is burning in the middle of my retina making it seem like a damaged strip of celluloid. the stench of burning failure and the audible shattering of dreams welcomes you like a bar-room jukebox playing too loud. whatever happened to the notion of peace and sanctity? even behind my back i can feel the chaos. it isn't so much about what was said, but that it was said at all. i can't believe the strength of all the leaders throughout the history of time, with all their power and all their ability and all their resources didn't amount to shit. it doesn't matter. it's almost completely ruined anyhow. nothing much left to do but sit here... and eat my own face.