Lose It Nicely

Cloned alone in a cyclone of neurosis, it’s little known but like drones we’re all prone to our own psychosis. A ghost is haunting my awakening, taunting and hastening, the fragmenting stagnation of my imagination, perpetrating what amounts to a mental molestation, I’m a self-incarcerated slave who now craves emancipation. But I’m torn between two masters: the divine and a disaster for one I kill the Albatross for the other bath in alabaster. My train of thought’s got engines on both sides, they rip me apart from the inside circle my one-track mind and then collide in a colossal collage and I’m barraged by thoughts of who I was and who I want to be who I am and who I ought to be I swear it hurts me bodily, yet oddly , sometimes I still refrain from living godly. from Resented EP, Mofu Heavy Industries, 2001.