Where are you now? Who are you wherever that is?

When I speak as who I am now, instead of who I was in our back then,it seems to affect you in a strange way,

The problem is my assumption that we have shared in a parity of evolution, and that causes me to forget about the word games I am expected to play.

Now contrary to the existence of many of those I know, I wake up to myself every day, a bit worse for the wear but better than most expect to find,

Slightly worn around my edges from cutting corners too close while ditching demon infested souls who could only travel in straight lines.

Our yesterdays were a fast lane ride in a long road of sorrows, a hard life that really had just one rule, simple and not too complicated,

" If you were in the game, you were fair game", and at the end of each day what you was, was what you were fated.

Sitting here in my familiar mental cell lost in music and illusions all vacuum sealed against the ravages of that old same ole same ole's still same ole hard times,

I find I still have a tendency to perceive myself as something more than a paranoid stooge with a "for entertainment value only" disclaimer stuck to my behind.

Now I do understand it is hard to be "opinion proved wrong" in a preferred perception of someone else, especially a spiteful one perpetuated as a guilty pleasure,

So I do understand it might be hard for you to imagine me as anything more than what I was when you last had occasion to take your measure.

In this right here, right now little space between the last song playing and the most recent daydream fading reserved for deep exhales and melancholy sighing,

Just who you were and where you might be now I have to wonder as sadly I can't quite picture you anymore no matter how hard I find myself trying.

All I do know is that I am stuck as that same old person in your memory, back when we last, evidently for you, tragically interacted,

We were on that long road of sorrows though and the weaker the walker, the greater the price was extracted.

I've payed the piper a buck or two on top of all the things I considered wrongfully taken, things the game dictated were not allowed to be,

The receipt can be found in my soul and the morning mirrors reflection, I am cool with me, but how do you feel about the sum total you wake up to see?

 

Are you only delusionally new in any reflection looking back at your memories of a then, unwilling to imagine me as anything different now,

Using a photo-shopped cropped cut and paste facebook profile façade to flesh out your own dessicated personality somehow.

Are you still stuck in a nightmarish 1^st person mode chemically infected sciamachy haunting you from way, way back then when,

Some original bitter bitch bastard whatever left you lost and tossed in a space with a sour D.N.A. aftertaste after giving you that first hit that started your spin.

Are you all pumped and plumped for show with nowhere to go, staring at an image all accessorized with dumpster salvaged bells and whistles,

Or to you tend to avoid honestly sober glancing at a cadaverous reflection all blunt force soul trauma reduced to shell and gristle.

Are you still chasing a frayed and faded feeling hoping to again feel like you used to feel sometimes when you really did not care,

Dibble dabbling in a little bit of this and that now and then here and there.

Well wherever you are now and whoever you might be there, I really hope you have found a you that feels like home,

Misery does love company though, so if you are still in any way at all playing the game, chances are you are not alone.

Me, I have come to accept this seemingly faded residual stain inconsequentiality in that world of ours I used to know,

Reputationally bitch slapped from the past, spit on and marginalized in the current grand scheme of emasculatory compromising some of you still call the status quo.

Now admittedly I can and do sometimes put a little extra on who I think I was and am in the grand productions new and old starring me that play in my mind on a 1000 screens,

A little bit quieter though I confess at the end of those illusions I still feel like I am in a hell, screaming a silent primal scream after scream after scream.

You can run away as fast as you can trying to get away from who you don't want to be remembered as, often times all indignant and holier than thou,

But you will always find yourself right back at whatever specific you that you were every time someone drifts back in memory to wonder,

" just where you might be now!"