Rendered around perspective. Where is the place of reflective. Refer to the distance of my being perplexive to deal with the raw deal incentive. Locked down under what right? Tonight there is a brain storming to get it right. Digging frantic grabbing through tunnels of garbage cans. To get flash and bright with my clan, no no kick the can.

The subconscious seems to consciously alert me. To go forward full, alert, aware. Have the yackers terraformed my mind. They are cracked actors, crampters, wackos. So rude the intrude, a vile attempt to keep my mission booed. In this intermission your submission ensued.

Sentanced to the asylum a dreary dream I did not create. The inner fears knock so queer as to be quite quaint. Don't wannabe stuck in a barrage of mirages. The ghetto spective renders my necrospective flawless. A world built on false sense of pain cannot truly regain you say!?

Have I earned the badge of horror. It's an honor