Electric Wizard

Another Perfect Day?

The days are flowing like a black river; they are like a crystal lake of the fears and the blood tears. The days are fulfilled with self-obsessed and ugly madness; smile of madness gets wider and wider every single day. Mornings are the ritual awakenings – each one is different and terrifying. Each one leaves you no choice – live and try not to think about that smell of the rotten pineapples in the hands of the old people creeping and crawling like the dogs of insanity everywhere you go and look. The dogs of your mental war are barking at you every single time you close your eyes. The days are like the abyss of black water. The days are what you’re afraid of because that grey light of stubborn reality is burning your dreams’ skin. You want to hide behind a mask; you want to feel less, but the horrifying pictures are always behind your back ready to fray your nerves. The pictures, the dogs, the fears – these are the days of being a crash test dummy. The days you want to bury forever like a mummy.    Will you ever be perfect and stable? Will you ever see the light? Will you ever stop running? Will you ever forget? Another perfect day?  Well, okay. Okay. The Wizard is needed to cure the pain and take it out of the guts and brain. The Wizard’s got a potion, The Wizard knows the spells. You have no choice but to trust and follow his voice. You’ve got no choice. These words are like a hammer crashing your fingers. One of these days you can be all alone and bleeding; you can be calling for The Wizard to save you from the day of unspeakable madness. Sometimes it just happens. I wish you wouldn’t know these days.

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