Twisted(rachel) *Authors note: Again, this is my attempt at an absurd monologue.

Twisted thoughts play with twisted minds round round the bend unknown destination unknown destiny just an endless circle, oh there they go again. Attention is short when the earth flies with clouds heavy as metal yet still floating, and air is bound to the core unable to move as it swirls into eternity. Open space stars float including the one we depend upon but what happens when it becomes no longer useful, like silly things that have saved our so called lives shall we forget to mourn that powerful sun that drives us on. How twisted we have made the world. Perhaps it is for the best since most of us toil with hate for protection undeserving. Corruption seeps into our souls before leaving the dark of a mother's womb, before first seeing the light that is left, so little, it has dimmed. However on and on we pursue fearful of perfection, fearful of small worries, fearful of fear, ignoring the suffering they cause themselves, unaware of the connection of power sweeping them up into a dustpan so that they are contained when needed. In that dustpan they are richly provided for, but how much richer could they become if the walls were torn down? How twisted are we. Sense has turned senseless, only detectable by the deep lookers, but we all feel the cold of the deep. We would rather sit on the throne given to us, made of plastic and blood. How twisted our creations. Fresh water oozes from a hidden pain, what we drink is bitter but sweet because we are not the ones that are inflicted. Even if it became black with death still we would drink pretending not to notice. The responsibility is not ours and ours alone. Still we choose to keep walking into the dreaming nightmare. How twisted our minds. We say we disobey because of our fear and hate of the darkness and yet the darkness is where we build from, unstable and easy. Slowly, we watch the city, our city that we made others build for us, strong and proud, crumble around us because of the poor location choice. If only slaves were machines like we think they are would they keep building so that we may thrive. How twisted our reality. When dreamers come we are distracted by all the flashes they create to ease our known worries to a dribble, that we may never hear it again, even though it still remains. Only those with tuned ears hear the drop once a century, and decided to catch it. They are the ones who have built on the know only flickering flame of a mighty torch. How twisted our bodies. The ones who think are shunned and cast from society because they have gone into the frozen wastelands of life. We have enough knowledge to know what it is that is out there, that we CHOOSE to destroy further. Going with what the cybernetics have taught us has led us deeper into our fiery graves of hell. Rage consumes our hearts as we yell from the sealed jar that has no holes to breathe. Fury beats at our empty, heaving, dead chest forever, unable to stop, for that is what we have told it to do. A grudge floats ominously above an enemy waiting to grab hold and feast on rotting flesh. How twisted our life. Demons crawl out from opened wounds and broken emotion, while angels from healed rubble and reattached limbs, only to fight a so called 'holy' war, where both sides wind up dead, in pools of magic and faery dust. What meaningless battles do we fight to follow in their footsteps, over silly past tense and future domination? How twisted the supernatural. Suicide is our only path to nowhere when life is at its high point. They think that they shall remain silent so prying heads do not see. Fear not foolish martyrs! Your tale is being told! How twisted is death.

To end where the end is not all things we know of are just one big twisted tree with twisted fruit, leaves, and vines to match it.
Cheers to how twisted insanity is!!!

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