JP3

Choose blue spandex. Choose red underwear worn on the outside. Choose a fancy cape. Choose a fucking elaborate logo. Choose to fight crime and take the higher ground. Choose journalism. Choose Louis Lane. Choose glasses and an alias. Choose Clark Kent. Choose a nemesis. Choose Lex Louther. Choose a heritage from another planet. Choose landing on earth in space ship in Smallville. Choose to fly, stop bullets, look through walls and fire lasers from your eyes. Choose super strength. Choose a weakness to kryptonite. Choose being able to travel faster than the speed of sound. Choose being a good boy from the USA. Choose strong hold hair gel. Choo

When time stands still people will stop, look at each other and we will all forget about colour and race, When time stands still everyones eyes will open fully, and we will all walk through the door hand in hand, When time stands still we will remember what was and bathe in memories long past, When time stands still people will weep with tears of joy at what they can see and children will laugh and play and run in the streets, When time stands still every idea will blossom like a rose and there will be no more fighting, When time stands still regimes will crumble and freedom will stand tall and you and I will wander down the unbeat

Walking through this life, Drifting slowly past all the random goings on of others, Sacrificing all our past beliefs for the latest shiny gadget on the shelves, No one cares about what was anymore, We've become a nation of clones, Shopping in the same stores and dressing in the same fashions, If you even think of being different you're branded a freak or loser by your wanna-be peers, So you slowly retreat back inside your box, Making sure you're on the same page as everyone else, Wearing Topman shirts, Ben Sherman Shoes and Fred Perry Jackets, Always conforming to the ways of society, Well fuck society, Break the box and burn the

The sky is grey, Shore shrouded in shadow, As I drift along, On a wave of uncertainty, Caught in a current, Never knowing, where I'm going, But then I look ahead of me, My feet touch down on solid ground, I know the way, I now can see.

As I sit pondering, What's true and what's not, Succumbing to the wiles of my emotions, And the cruel jokes they play. A painful memory sneaks forward from the past, And my brain recoils with a pain that lasts. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, But it does me no good, a sorry mistake, The memory stays, like a thorn in my side, Constantly nagging. Forever deepening the wound, There is no reprise.

Did you ever wonder if all this is real? Or get the feeling like you're in some kind of dream? Like everyone is actually asleep and what we see is just the mental manifestation of the combined power of our minds? And how we look is just how we perceive ourselves to be? As we move throughout the world created by our collective imagination, in and out of each others self conscious interacting and all the while becoming more and more intertwined. And maybe those of you who read this will join the few who are less asleep that the rest and eventually it  will come to light that there's no such thing as insanity, and it will finally be known t