Where is this void, so deep inside me that holds my soul?
To me it appears as though its nothing more than a deep black hole.
A chasm, if you will, that refrains from letting the "good" in and the "bad" out.
It swells, and darkens with every passing moment. Like a cancer on a rampage. Passing moments that add up quick, no doubt.
I fear and I dread and I constantly look for someplace to rest. Some place to lean.
My body tires, and my body weeps. From my eyes, come tears that I can feel, but can not be seen.
What do I do when the day comes that I fade?
Looking back on all the times that I've broken down and prayed,
For nothing more than a glimmer of hope, a dim light in the distance, if even just to guide my way.
What will there be on that last page? The last page to turn before the story of me is at its end.
I can sense the light. I can feel it out there, but to reach it, oh what a "dream come true" that would be.
But the dark, where does it come from? I can more than just sense that. It seems to take me, overwhelm me, strangle me.
Its hard to breath here. And my breaths are getting shorter.
Once again I pray....I pray that they wont cease. Please....give me strength.
You want to hear about torment? Have you heard about "Echelon?" How about "Carnivore?" Here is torment at the height of its splendor, brought to you by your own trusty U.S. "goober"nmiento. It all starts with your own trusty cell phone, now equipped with 3-way calling: you, whoever you're dialing, and the GOVERNMENT. Why? Because of the highly sensitive spy network, called Echelon, set up by the governments of the U.S., England, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Its aim is to intercept vitually all forms of electronic communications. Worldwide surveillance - of civilians world wide. Under Carnivore, U.S. internet service providers are forced to attach a black box directly to their networks - a powerful computer through which all of their users' communications may flow. This is like giving the FBI the power to go into the Post Office and open each and every mailbag in search of one person's letters. Our right to privacy is on the brink of extinction. That's torment.
Dude, fuck the government. Let em do what they want. They wanna sit there and "open all our mail" and read whats going on. Let them. Maybe then they'll legalize marijuana because they'll probably realize that half of their own trusty employees are habitual users as well. Screw em man. We have things like the bill of rights and the constitution. Let em scan through what we're doing, what we're writing, what we're saying, and how we think. If any of us do anything wrong they can't use that shit as proof or evidence. Because it simply violates our rights as citizens, and that will never change. Every American in this world except for some of those in their high "no-one can touch me" possitions would absolutely fuckin' flip out if they ever did that and tried to use shit as "evidence," against us. So let em peak....let em read and listen in, basically I look at it as a "poll" that we dont know we're taking. Fuck it and fuck them. Thats not torment. Its the stupid idio-sincracies of a never perfect, but always changing government, in a day and age when our own 9 year old children have to fear weapons in their own schools, let alone every other place on this fucked up unfriendly planet. I want to know what happened to the days of respect. The days where a stranger you dont know was given the most respect you would ever give anyone until they DISPLAYED they didn't deserve it. The days a stranger was your friend until they displayed they weren't. Nope not today....today a stranger is someone to fear, with good reasoning, someone to show no respect to until they show otherwise. Thats torment....the simple fact that we think we're getting smarter and better and faster and growing and communicating in new ways. Really all we're doing is coming up with more and more ways, and more and more reasons to be antisocial, rude, obnoxious, and stick our mother fucking noses in the air. Perhaps I should have changed the title of my poem to "the secret of MY torment." But, personally I like the title as is....so there it remains.
Well personally the days I miss even more.....were the days you could walk right out your front hole, grab a big stick, hit yo' woman on the head and drag her home. Then afterwards I used to go out again and with a small stick, prodding into a hole in some rotten tree stump, I would find myself a nice lil treat of ants. Those were crunchy and tasty. 'Course then, after my appetizer, id have to go out and get me yet ANOTHER club, and make a spear with my trusty pocket slate blade, and Id go find me some Juicy brontosaurus, and cut him up all nice. MMMM MMMM.....when I'd get back to the cave, my beloved Ooga Booga was usually concious by then....so shed rustle up some hot and flavorsome bare back bronto ribs. Man...those were the days.....(way back when no one from our day and age existed, yet we still presume to know....just how it was, or must have been!)