Dripping with "meaning," I heard the call:
Sugar water! Sugar water!
It's a drive by. It's a rush from hell. It's "f-ed-up" and I'll deal with it later.
Lost and messy, a man can infer or imply.
A dual reality. A diversified unity.
Leave me with my stasis.
Outside it's willy-nilly.
I don't know you. I'll never know you.
I dream in Brian DePalma fashion - my vision severed down the middle.
Put a tinted lens on my imagination and turn me loose.
Or, turn me out.
Leave me to funk at my own risk - at my own pace. I'll create worlds - I swear I will.
The sugar water call echos down, lost in the mix. A sticky archetype. A mound of symbols, dissolving.
Dissolving.
Blend it with the now. Drawn from the ages.
Reaching for heaven in the penthouse of Babylon Central.
I'm calling you.
Answer the damn phone.
My ring says "urgent."
My head says "Yeah, right..."
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