Familiar Unfamiliar People

-I am no longer in reality
-My instruments of sound are alerted
-A man…weeping in song of past grief and heartache is tenuous
-My eyes awaken
-I am in a den…nubilous with the smog of despair and misfortune from the men and women who surround my stool
-I perceive them to be my cronies…only in these times where reality seems to be contorted is when this appellation fits
-And they have been cronies of mine for many of times
-Times where I’ve seen just as they see
– Conceived as they conceive
-To enjoy that very second…With no regard for the next
-To revere the next second in silence…Knowing it is what bonds us as cronies
-The fear of it all
-The fear of the insanity of the world
-But now I sit here and watch them… For I now am a stranger to the ways they now wish to precieve the world
-Their grasp of reality…as well as there  souls…enervating with every line they consume full of toxicant promptly chased down with the chintziest piss you can replete a pitcher with
-They chatter amongst another
-Conversations full of babble and prevarications of this and that
-Memories of other cronies
-Who chose other itineraries
-As they converse of them… With jealous tongue through green lips… Red with hatred in their eyes
-Wishing they had… Critiquing their ways
-Imbibing their piss
-Forceful tittering as tears for aid are knocking on lids
-Pathetic
-They’ve grown weak
-These are not my cronies
-This smog is thicker around them
-Have my cronies changed??
-Or have I surpassed them
-My mind awakens
-I leave the den
-I look back but asend foward
-Ascending in a reality I am familiar with
-Though not reality itself
-I could say it’s better than theirs

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