robinbloke | 1658 blather (Estimated now 3% inaccurate)

I'm coming back to life, losing one world for another. Lifestyle addiction and persona flipping. Changes keep changing on me. I can't see the forest for the trees, or the people for the crowd. Trading in my chips and time. Time after time - it's never enough. I need two lifetimes for the single life I lead. Compressed and stretched. If I could turn back time, I'd do it all again. 10-4 10-40 74, 75, numbers all rolling past as if they mean something. Restraint and reason never seemed to be that much of a problem. I do have a plan, but it has to wait until I've finished burning out. Lifestyle with a plan, but only for my mind. In the end, it doesn't really matter. I've been around the world and I can't find it. I was lost but now I'm found. Alone with my thoughts this evening. I'm the Banquo at your banquet, the cuckoo in your nest. Searching for myself in others words when I can never look inside. Inside out. Like living in a box, a cardboard box. I know what I want, but I can't look for it. And when I see that I'm blind. When it was all so unreal it had to end. When it ended, it was all so unreal. Moving on ain't easy. Count the sheep, roll the film, take a walk, move on up, shake a leg, tie a knot, coast to coast, room to room, site to site, peer to peer, evernear, everfar, everlong, anytime, anyplace, anywhere. Kill your ideas, kill your views, kill your television. Macro logic in a micro world. Minor key for a major player. Bit part in a commercial break. One liner in a small statement. Blip on the scanner, curve ball thrown. Ninety nine red balloons. Floating.
I have to ask myself; "If only you could see what I've seen with your eyes.