...

a wondering wanderer scribbles ands scrabbles to find the place at the end of his deepest dreams, but there's no war of words, or triple letter scores here, so its hard to ascertain where exactly he's found himself...

if he'd been looking when the notices were being passed, or bothered to pay a jot of attention when the warners told him what to take care from, then he'd probably have a bit more direction now. that's not the case, unfortunately for him, but fortune is not something we can debate about - destiny is already unfolding, all he can do is behold and the future's a great story untold..

so he's now lost in a place where there's a million obstacles to his sight, his mind and his take on reality. no thought comes except that it's closely followed and often overtaken by thousands more, so he's confused - he can't hear his own inner voice of clarity over the scream and hubub of all the infiltrators. if only there was a flash of light or a breath of life that he could cling to, drowning in waves of thought and sound, in dark seas of debt, deed-poll and insecurity.

what's a name when it's a number on file? a database compiled, an identity up on trial.

what's a prison when there's no escape from inner space? no part to the human race, when evolution's been bought and sold and fed, fed, fed til you can't think anymore - it comes belching out as there's nowhere to put it, a nauseating stench of faux intellectualism but all that's been said before. is there anyone there who can see through?

why do you feel lost in a maze you've made, when the way's clear, just look behind. or nowhere or everywhere, truth is self-evident and hidden within all at once. clear, refreshing, bringing to life.

the truth sets us free from ourselves.

there is a way dear man, human. others have tread it, so it's not that hard. next time you spot a warner take heed, follow him, befriend him and he will show you the way.

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