What’s crazy exactly feel like?
What if normal was mentally ill and crazy was acting like everything was still alright?
What if we stopped chasing lies and instead began chasing real life?
Pain and strife were all expected. Overcoming them got you real high. And your scars were status symbols. And we respected the elders and the generals.
What if I stood under a street light?
Mind “Girl Interrupted” and software corrupted.
And the glorious images of luxury were replaced with displays of authenticity.
Real emotions and vulnerability fell the false displays of invincibility.
And everyone stopped pretending like they didn’t see.
And we walked the sidewalks in the city followed closely by anxiety. But we sold off the worry and profited with peace.
In a world where the eyes never meet and the game is to play like you can’t see.
Unless we want something.
Unless I have what you need.
And the smile didn’t hide or try to show a false charisma.
And the suicide in my mind wasn’t hidden from the stigma.
Photo credits / WARHOL’S POLAROIDS 1958 -1987