SKINNY

How does one hides that forever wrinkling skin? through organically weird chemistry sets? or simply, cheaper, through a clothing theatre, a messy collage of so 'apart' elements, that one looks as a mannequin darting around through a remote control orders;

How comes every one tries to create or at least grab a conformist picture of the other, a one purely the projection of one's own socially set, that day's menu of what all should be like in order to love or kill, hate or accept?

Finally, each day is but a repeat, for one must put back on the blasting vestiture already hanging besides the wake out of a night's repairing at the dream shop;

End of dream chasing, back into the hunt for success, pleasure, conquest...and all that which smells from the hidden money, that contractual currency, the gang chain simply said;

I guess I never have learned to 'wake up'...was it because of being too dumb, or too much of a coward?

Maybe I have learned how to live deep into my skin's wrinkles, imagination's own.