Confined to a hell where the only way out is Solitaire. Play your cards right and you’ll be King of Kings of your wildest dreams; your self-surrendering destiny---but a blank canvas to be rendered at will.
I won.
Oh, I won, all by myself; ended up in a monochromatic plush vault with materialistically mind-dependent millions. They said you’d gain it after a while… You’d watch the zero-zero-zero’s stack and stack and stack infinitely high up to a ceiling of zero value; within boundaries of zero limitations---an enclosure of zero definition and character---zero importance---and yet this was where I belonged.
It didn’t take long.
It just took years and years of diving amidst the fiendish depths, kindling the infamous inceptions of the dopamine; all of such endeavors leading up to a single moment; a single action.
It was one big fix; perceiving one merciful rainbow after another, only to obtain the ability to see one when there is absolutely no reason to---that’s when an ol’ buddy told me I’d gain all the reasons in the world.
“Inhale the pot, exhale the gold,” I heard him say.
I don’t got squat to my own, and yet I have all I could’ve ever wished for---and can’t nobody tell me otherwise.
There’s a million on the spectrum. Do you see it?
2
A vision worth a million dollars granted a million years to use it in proportion. They said I deserved it. I feel all the more pleased when some anonymous drops the care package; a weekly tray of unripe, rich, red-orange mangoes upon a lackluster platform; a new juxtaposition on the whitewash scene, now evolving everything, doing more justice to bliss as jail does its time. They were the criminals all along, and they knew it and now they serve me. I escaped those new age slaveries. I freed myself.
What did I do to deserve this? I don’t know, fill up a couple clips with metal pebbles and light a dark universe up. There were just so many existential errors in humanity that needed to be taken care of.
I’d say I did a service. I got an infinite reward; somehow they hauled it all into this room where I lay my head every night and fabricate realities with my mind. I wake up; it merely continues as this island vacation revolves around these three faithful fruits from exotica; a trinity of self-satisfaction.
They say you can never draw a picture of God; I think I’m inside; every hour a shift of the kaleidoscope.
Me?---Thee incarnated counterpart of the sun-soaking cathedral mosaic. I am the savior of myself, my destiny, my reality.
What are the odds?
I made it to this point. I deserve this and everyone outside my world---They’re the ones in the slammer.