Last night was a boring evening, mostly spent eating peanut butter of “toast.” Now if you lived with me, you might realize toast isn’t really toast, rather it’s simply microwaved rye bread with “true” Irish butter and chunky natural peanut butter evened out on its matrix. Although I’m a foodie, you’d never guess. I mostly spend time eating rice. However I’m beginning to get tired of eating rice.

I want a hamburger instead.

And now I’m left thinking of hamburgers.

It had been many months since I had a good hamburger, although at the time I used to take them for granted. I now live in a world not so enchanted except for the occasional ladies in Jesus sandals that are enchanting in their own good bad ugly shoe way. I took a bus trip to the local money center, and got some rent. I’m trying to get disability money, but for most of the day I was spent.

The bus ride wait was long. Although in my mind I always imagined pretty black haired anime girls sitting by me on the bench. But then wasn’t the time to get a lady boner. Yes, some ladies get boners. But don’t tell that to transphobic people. Eventually the bus arrived after the one I missed, and I was able to take the bus ride back home.

We had been living without money for the laundry for a long time, and yet I can’t seem to make my room mate wash our clothes. These days she mostly spends time playing video games instead. I reminded her about applying for the superstore with the money center, but really I’d prefer to get a bank. I used to watch movies about how it be good to sign up for the bank after all. Although that definitely wasn’t true to the book. I got drunk for the first time in ever, and all I remember about the time between trying to get drunk and being sober is the silly social media posts I posted.

I fell asleep again, like a dog.

I woke up in a very different world from the one I knew. It was a world where people were being hung by the neck or beheaded by the ax depending on which social class your were.

I walked up to an elf girl standing in the pillory. I know what you’re probably thinking, but I must remind myself “reminded to keep it television friendly.” Even though I don’t actually believe that garbage. Instead I poked her nose instead.

I took out my guillotine gun, that’s a guillotine blade projectile shooter. Originally invented at the turn of the century, the guillotine became increasingly refined. After the seventies it went into disuse, until states began to want more efficient and instantaneous methods of executions on the spot. Built like knife gun, the gun is built specifically for mechanized beheading and not combat.

“So what are you in for?” I asked, standing beside her.

“Stealing a loaf of bread.” she said.

“There doesn’t seem to be any guards here.”

“Don’t even try breaking me out, I won’t be your wife.”

“Now now there bitch, who said–”

I was awoken as the time had gone past afternoon, my room mate reminded me to call for my therapist.

I’ll meet with the elven bitch later.

She was blond.

Beyond the dreamer’s edge where hopes may die, come to where the promise lies. In distant lands beyond the hills, beyond where con men become shills. Come to the inner life. Come to your inner desires.

It was a calling voice I never heard before, a voice that called from within. Where hopes and dreams loop all over again. As I woke in a motel on the inner edge of Purgatory road, I found the blond elf girl dining on toad at a local restaurant that served fine wines and exotic dinners. The girl, of long straight thick blond hair, wore two wooden shoes but no cotton cap. “You show your face to me.” she said me, as she looked to the sky imagining freedom.

“Look all I did was stand beside you.” I said.

“You stood beside me?” she asked, she asked assuming I would try to deny it.

While I wasn’t exactly in the mood to argue, I couldn’t deny I had the feeling. I felt like my tender skin was peeling from the rough touch of millions of knives. The world where fancy diners were considered dives. “I only came to enjoy my inner life.” I said, and yet she stilled stared that stare. … Like she wanted me to be her wife, the love, the star-crossed of her life.

And yet I come here from a world beyond, where ones hopes are doomed to die. The end of Purgatory road had not reached its finality, the malcontents still broke the laws like they always did. I would have liked to think of myself as far to broken, to be broken anymore. And yet there is that look I can’t ignore, that look of that long yard stare of the lost elf girl name Lenora. “So where is your Raven.” I asked, trying to make conversation out of nothing, no sounds beyond the inner rainbow’s edge.

“I had a Raven once.” she said.

“What happened to them.” I asked.

“Nevermore.” she said, then snapped her fingers.

Now I’m back in my personal life.

Sometimes life has unanswered questions, and yet many times it feels like the inquisition. And yea my life was something far different, far more subtle. Far more finite. My dreams were on the edge of disaster, ruled by tyrannical bastards. These bastards called themselves the mighty three.

And yet as I wake beyond the dream land, I’m back to nothing.

My nothing is nothing all o’er again. And yet I heard that voice, of distant anguish. Where the demons lost to time have not been vanquished from the mind. And to this day I still hear that poetic voice, calling, and mocking my name for something that I may never have again. That beyond the dreamer’s edge where hopes may die, come to where the promise lies. In distant land beyond the hills, beyond where con men become shills. Come to the inner life. Come to your inner desires.

Beyond the mortal life.

The life of the non-fallen.

My inner soul of non.

It is currently a struggle to find disability, do they think I will give them a disability? Or do they have some other purpose for me.

And I am simply part of their game.

The game of life, without winners. Without losers. It constantly recycles life fictional reincarnation, if you are of a certain sensibility. But I’d rather belong to personal dependability.

Something beyond my inner doubt.

My fragile mind.

In this world of mine was counting minutes, till the universal intelligent phone operating communication system lost of the crucial data to perpetual this make believe world call reality. My reality is not as yours, as yours isn’t to mine. And yet we spend most of our lives dictating to each other what reality is, and yet I wonder to myself what option do some people have. Well don’t ask this chav, whose mind has been split in half literally in metaphorical visuals. My mind had felt like a bullet fired to my skull, leaving half my brains splattered on the floor spreading themselves across the carpeted artificial floor within our reality.

And I live as nobody by what I know of myself. What I know of myself. I know of myself … nothing. Only dreams as visual reality at the edge the nightmare rainbow where giant cockroaches crawl out of it in droves. Where cockroaches in my life, fly upon the drones of a new reality.

The manufactured life.

Where I have no life. I only have myself.

I have an empty shell.