Boy: "One plane ticket to As Far Away From This Place Please."
Ticket clerk: "Heaven, Hell, or Deep Space?"
Boy: "Have any thing to My Mind? Next flight...tomorrow morning?"
Ticket Clerk: "Aren't you leaving there?"
Boy: "I'm trying to leave reality."
Ticket Clerk: "Oh, I see, you'll be getting the last ticket, may I ask why you're leaving?"
Boy: "Why not?"
Ticket Clerk: "I see, have a safe flight & enjoy your time there."
Boy: "Will do, and I can only try so much, thank you."
Ticket Clerk: "Bon joyage."

Eyes fading in the mirror in as he stares at them.
Fading losing depth and meaning.
Blending together as one color, neutral.
Everything falls black.
Blinded of everything, all senses numb, cannot feel, hear, touch, nor taste.
But his mind let's him know of everything that's going on.
Sitting there accepting the truth.
All he can do anymore...

Wishing to be stronger.
In every single way.
Always wanting to do better than he put out.
There's a error though.
He can't, no matter how hard he may try, it's flawed.
A clean cut voice one of truth, courage, love, affection, kindness, and even hope.
Cutting through the ever dense haze, shining light.
Giving hope the an optimistic is odd at the thought, but pure in the feeling.


I: "Am I here?"
I: "Don't ask me."
I: "Who made this place?"
I: "You did."
I: "Thought so. but I don't get it."
I: "The other 9 of us don't we just treasure it, as a haven."
I: "Just embrace it?"
I: "Yeah, and with time it will clear up."
I: "Really?"
I: "Damn well hope so."

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