We all dwelt within the cave.

Depressions, impotency, tiredness... growth.
Dispersion in language   returns anima, religion, divinity.

                A birth.

I dreamt of sulking giants in urban cities; of revolts ending in arson and chaotic upheaval; of modern renaissance - the refurnishing of grey facades and withered rivers capes.

I threw the world into idealistic fantasies: veneered the sky with sparkling wine, and glossed the sun with spring-wrought dew. Flowers blossomed from mutagens - I saw lilacs and roses crisped, smouldering in the boughs of trees.

Solemnly, I riled revolutions within myself. My senses became ruthless bandits and fell a path before me. Hypersensitivity has allowed me to assume a peculiar perspective, all-too-distant to others. Fornlornity consumed me and familiarity gilded the edges: I became distantly recognizable - I had hoards of drunken friends, some a bit too serious. 

Nietzsche and Rimbaud are precursors to my artefact of a perspective. Wild dancers - never acquainted - lost in running thought. Sensual revolutionaries. Commandeers of the self. Savants of the spirit. 

Victory song: 

On seas of scalp, algae walkways churn and surface. The sun has merged with the moon - subsequently, this blend cast illuminations of gold across the molten sea.

Classrooms: mundane assignments, mundane peoples… in the eyes of our integral institution, I am a no-good deviate! I reek of failure and my rambunctiousness is ruthless. Out of boredom, I erupt extravagantly - and my lack of idle submission is horrifying to the institutionalises! I am a symptom of their system though. Mixing the exceptional with the superfluous! Go ahead, plague our divine food! We will end up poisoning you… the approaches are ridiculous: they believe us to be equal - I believe that to be ludicrous. Terror! - Where will I go without the confirming credibility of our sanctioned education system?! Ah, to heights possibly undiscovered, of course. The self-taught individual: flickering TNT passed in relay through epochs, eventually will re-invent the world!

The government: I will escape. Or perhaps, I have already escaped. Symptoms of escape: nervousness, craftiness, cunning. I breach everything I find unjust, according to my standards - I transcend the rules and regulations of government. I’d rather impale myself on some flagpole than submit. Ravenously, I shall repeat: I am a revolution.

Fragmented thought: 

Boughs of blackened leaves; forest floor running red - the melting sun or mounds of mutilation? Summer leaves drift and become autumnal.