coming in waves all different colors and shapes up in my face flooded with hundreds of planes none of em gray everyone s summer it s strange i am pathetic cause i m empathetic and hide in my head it s so minor the mind of a skeptic lights are synthetic they re everywhere vital and hectic the highest aesthetics a life that s systemic high lows are leveled in vibrant falsettos the tidals lack titles but i won t forget it no i won t forget it when i go to bed its so psychokinetic i am antenna ions and tenors i ll light up the sky like the eye of the nexus like roman polanski i am the tenant to my own unconscious i am dependent depends on perception the pen can script tempests my tempers tempestuous excellent sounds if i don t swim right the riptide will drift like virginias i ll give in and then ima drown in the animalistic the phantoms are present a precious example of tandem dimensions my hands on a candle to cancel the shadows that saddled my mental a sad i ll admit to a satellite signal emitting it s riveting stand at attention the visuals vicious my visions distorted this visage contorted of course it s a symptom i ve been here before 7 billion people 14 billion faces i don t want to meet a one i d rather sit inside my tomb where i bloom i ruminate in a room with 8ths while the meter runs meet or run watch the cumulus accumulate feel the rush funerals accrue the weight when im in a state i hope it s deep enough when the season comes to pursue the chase i ll take it there and wait till theyre coming in waves im wavy everything is blurry on the daily im way beyond what theyve been on they basic while im wavy 