Empire Of The Senseless

The beautiful boy sets his sights across the ocean. He knows his love is waiting. He knows she is impatient. He takes time anyway. No one can fool him. He has all the answers in a small backpack. His father was Michael Jackson. His mother was Kathy Acker. He had but one brother, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. He’s been alone all of his life. He doesn’t intend on running away. The beautiful boy is going home. He’s sitting on the floor crying in the palms of his hands. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. He’s been sitting of some floor somewhere for the last four years. He’s not lazy. He works through the night, most of the day too. He refuses to participate in society. It has only ever made him sick. The beautiful boy loves to be healthy. He does not want to harm anything. Above all else is his love. From this place it flows, pours out of his skin, drowning everything that dares stand before him. He knows its time to stand up. He knows its time to embrace the unknown again. He knows the control is in another’s hands. He is