A Mad Hatter’s Anthem
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Uncertain circumstances allow momentary growth for a mad sense of overwhelming curiosity.
A language once spoken frequently but laid to rest in attempts to move forward.
The past reaches out in desperation with a memory of just one occasion.
Later adolescent days, where the seed of madness was planted.
Mr. Grimes entrusted me to the lifestyle of unending foreboding art.
A challenge to become someone who should
“Only use your brain to twenty five percent think and seventy five percent act.”
Learning the future laid in the palm of my hand was a relief.
Like sculpting silly putty and transforming it into a satisfying temporary choice.
However, one must carry a powerful amount of faith, an ability to remain fluid, and above all else, hone your craft into something respectable.
A memory is not enough fuel to flame the fire.
Momentary lapses produce precise still frames,
Serving as gasoline which ignite the brain to remember what once was.
It’s that endless amount of curiosity that has remained restless, attempting to double in size.
Reconnecting pieces to the once digested mindset of a writer is no mean feat.
It is one that is supposed to inspire the corrupt regulations of society.
To be broad, irregular, and wilder than the others around you.
If one was to say, “I’m meant to do something” because a feeling of entitlement became them.
That is not your thought, it belongs to someone else. Get your own!
Individuality didn’t kill the cat; however, it is friends with the previous deviant.
The two conspire amongst themselves as they play with their irregular toys.
Some allow one to simply reestablish one’s own creativity,
while others reveal that there is nobody to hold your hand.
The three constructs attempt to haunt each individual within society’s corrupt wrath. Money. Employment. Security. Three things that would drive a man off a cliff if he believed he could receive life support.
These cemented, concrete cites do not have to be the end all be all of this life.
They become the medicated pills we swallow each morning. Allow the catalysts to enable us to be and do more than we thought imaginable.
If we make the choice ourselves and allow our actions to define who we are,
Rather than who we can single handedly be, we may not only survive tomorrow.
But live to live.
© Gaston King, all rights reserved.
