Glass pyramids dripping from the delirium of negation; a cosmic outline, blueprints to absurdity. Hysteria in the sandy desolation of your mind. Bitter ecstasy allowing a loosened grip on reality as you become weightless with putrefaction. It’s a chasm within and without you, the loss of the physical by the spiritual.
My delirium is a landscape painted black and blooming with color. My sight: my life lived in retrospect, already watching the slideshow of regret. Has it ever taken you there? A glimpse into gruesome empty space? Have you ever been trapped the a rolling red dunes of your most whimsical eternity?
Has your nightmares’ fantasy ever impeded on your pulsing reality?
Have you ever lost a limb in a bout of lunacy?
Have you ever been trapped in the delirium of negation?
A blank space between every blink, a now within a then. It’s a kind of death within life, loss within gain. It’s believing the sight of your demise long before it’s seen. Its an illusion of elastic mortality, bending the rules of up and down. It’s the sight of your ending cosmos, insidious to the begging mind. It’s walking around a deadman, signing checks and planning visits. The delusion of a laughing corpse, dialing your mother as decedent insanity robs you of your right hand.
Delusion in your breakfast cereal as you shovel sustenance into a chasm, it gets worse while it gets better. But it nearly kills you after you find out you’re dead. A sudden and sustained ego-death induced by consciousness. That life long conviction to finding the little certainty this life provides, pushing you just beyond reason into the robust landscapes of mania.
Here liquid phobia rushes along with the river of frenzy in your head. The endless winter in the desert of your dementia keeping you cold as you explore the long roads of calloused homes. Entire neighborhoods of pungent pediphilles holding elections in the candy castles resting near your worry. Its Cotards conundrum in the middle of dinner, it’s dying on the first date.
Have you ever looked around and thought you might be dead? Have you ever made the habit of carrying your tombstone to class? Have you ever been mad enough to go walking around headless? Have you ever been invited to the delirium of your negation?