Serial Experiments Lain Poetry - Blog Posts

Being too self aware isnt great

I overthink everything. Sometimes it makes me sound smarter, most of the time im miserable from it.

I prefer when things just come to me

When I can just exist

But im addicted to this

My face reflects

My phone screen

Flat

Fading

Ive never really lived at all

A ghost of god on the awnsering machine

Dialed in, wired

Enter a network

Of words, wallowing and weeping

For all

Literate nonsense

A light on a cave

A theater

A soundstage

Im acting out my life and im a C lister

But im trying at least

Nobodies watching

Im alone, depressed, loneley.

The feeling isnt darkness though

The screen is on now

Blues, purples, particles of pink waves...

Im laying down

Lulling out words

Slurring out nerves

My lips curl, caressing

Confessions undressing

From myself

I take off my clothes, im not in them

Somethings buzzing

The screen goes black

Skyrim glitches for the 1000th time

Its gone.

FEE6DA

Psycho drug

Synced up

Linked rush

Pink flush

Bought to fade away

Seasons go away

As i start to fade away

Words repeat and lose meaning

Bought to fade away

Seasons of Lain

Desaturate

Pink Peach Puff

In my memory decay

Like a shade, a screen

Buzzes

The Wired

Present Day.

Present time

To me differently

Where the past isnt so far away

Words like rock;

Fill out fossils of my soul.

Fill out the fossils

Of my fucking soul

Fossils like old computers.

Soul like the humm and buzz

Of a CRT TV.

Sounds like telephone poles.

Words carry

Over a billion telephone poles

Is my conciousness real

Or theirs?