Descent into the Unanchored Mind (Fragment)
What is this? I suppose it is prose. F r a g m e n t s pushedintoeachother. Slipping away.
Organised Dissociation
OMNIPOTENT IMPOTENCE.
Hard to get myself up and out of the bed bound soundless salience. Silently admiring my former self from afar.
Fallen from the stars I once reached up to, looking down on myself from up above.
The ghost of me, haunted by the future ahead.
What in the heck is he talking about now?
Get off the oxy moron!
..Hey I was just flowing freely feeling fully fixed on feasting ferociously..
Precociously perhaps? Properly performing underperformance?
STOPPPP MATTEO. WHY CAN’T YOU STOP.
POPPA BEPOP PROP COP OUT SLOP.
Oh fuck me. Clang the conqueror is back. Let us all marvel.
..Cancel that..
Refreshing rhetoric really rounding out your rants Matty.
I have become quite fond of drinking coffee. It is my only joy amongst the days that phase me out of the life I once had.
Every day I feel the separation of the mind that I left behind. Expecting it to be there waiting at the door.
The noise is too loud for me to ignore anymore. Or any longer I am sure.
Knock knock
Who’s there?
No one that anyone else can see.
There is nothing. Nothing noteworthy noting that nothing never nailed the nature of the noise that I thwart.
If ever I get out of this bed of nails in the coffin of my lived in life. Bodying the embodiment of what it means to be gone. Present perhaps.
A gift.
A gift that has been opened and a refund demanded. An error in judgement handed down accordingly.
Courting a romance with the end of days by playing hard to get, in a daze.
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They say the certain things in life are death and taxes. I wish I could cheat both.
2 for 1. It must be Tuesday. How fun.
The end is nigh. Nightime has begun. Beginning back from where we began.
Which begs the barter, what am I trading here? Serene Substance?
There is none.
And just like that, my mind fell onto the page. Staging the props like a Matt in a cage.
Why is my mind like this? Rhyming misses like Abysses.
He’s empty. Full hiss
Of the snake with venom in its eyes. Back to where he lay.
Laid atop a bed of fails. King of the castle.
Rascal rambling really rotting away. Perhaps the medication may
Help.
How can’t you sea that there is a huge ocean out there full of people floating through the air.
My associates in care. Barely associated with the disengaged disassociated decay of the day.
Fair.
Deface away but stay. Can I stay here for a bit, If I
May 2026.
Back to the present. May I present to you a shift in perspective. The mind taped up masking the subjective suck of the swirled sky above.
Does life suck? I am sure it does.
Not.
It does not. So what to do now?
Where do we go from here? Here is where my mind starts.
No map available. I am lost.
Or have I just found myself.
What the fuck was that all about Matt??
Are you okay bro?
..Sorry, I couldn’t find my anchor..
Sitting alone seems to have set the tone. My mind has nothing to connect except a stream of thoughts. Cascading into the now. For now.
