The shades of my perceptions of reality flicker like some redneck TV with only pliers to change the channel. I can't find the bent butterknife we always used to adjust the colors and vertical hold. That part of the vision refuses to stay steady, and all I see are rolling forms in garish colors. I think its MASH, but I can't be sure.
My own paradigms of reason, kindness and faith change the same way when I see the baseness and fear inside my own heart. Why must my life be a re-run of mediocrity when I can't even get it right the first time?
Somebody, anybody, slap me upside the head, so the picture will straighten up again...
Thanks for reading,
Purgatory: A place of suffering and torment with an unknown duration. In Roman Catholic Theology-the place where the dead are purified from their sins.
By Rage Against The Machine