Aviator Madness

LIVE LONG. BURN SLOW.

Writers block. #7

Have love will travel.

Misunderstood misfit still painting portraits of the bullshit.

Listening to cool whip wishing the sugar was better for me.

But theirs no sustenance in those substances. Just half written stanzas.

With no stances.

As old age advances far faster that I last thought. 

I cast off the age old truths and blast off

Zero gravity with crest white strips for the cavitys

Habitual space tripper, stripping dreams from depravity.

Hoping maybe we will make if we just… keep..going.

I need something realer than quick pussy and turn up anthems.

Just one continous tantrum from a toddler who’s father never bothered

To branch out. Still the stand out in search of land out in the ocean

Too proud to hold his hand out.

Whole generation full of one man bands,

House full of woman trying to tell em they should pull up their pants

And surpass.

Few listen, too many victims, thank god I never became a statistic.

Just a witness, enlisting all sorts a vision to do something different.

Instead of cool whippin.

Space trippin.

With a sign written by the universe sent to earth on a scholarship.

With hopes someone would acknowledge it. 

Have love, will travel.