Electronic Renaissance

The weather.
This season.
A transition into winter,
oh it is so grey outside.
It is sad outside
and I am sad inside because.
This is wintertime for me.
It is blue and I cannot help
but feel useless and miserable
on the worst days.


It is ugly and makes people
feel bad, and I know there 
are many of these types,
whom cannot fathom the weather's
temperament. I feel you, I understand
how this works. 


This sort of day
instills the feelings
of nothingness,
a plasmatic form drifting
in a heavy air,
without a real body
and losing a mind.


All I want is to lie in bed
and do nothing with my life.
I fear if I lie down
I will not be able to bring myself
to get up and attempt life.
But my life feels useless too.
What have I done?


What have any of us done
to make anything?
To create something
even slightly new?
Some of us
have done things.


Some of us have not.
And it kills to me to know,
I've done nothing.


And in reading "On the Road"
I feel even more stationary.
A stick in the mud...
I want to be with those who


burn burn burn
with madness.


Where are these falling stars?
Screeching as they drop to earth
on fire? To light the long winding highways
of America?


Oh, the mad ones.
Filled with passion,
the power to go.
The power to create and live
a life, while naive,
that is wonderful. 


Instead I drive in the six o'clock dark
and stare at church steeples and 
crumbling buildings in a town
I don't want to sink into.


I need a Neil Cassady.
A passionate catalyst to 
spark something in me to
create something worthwhile and new.


I don't want to fall into a winter funk.


I can't think.
I cannot operate.