gopherhole/mayvaneday/archive/poetry/p/paranoico.html

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2019-03-26 22:55:34 -04:00
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<title>paranoico - Archive - MayVaneDay Studios</title>
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<b>MayVaneDay Studios (Gopher Edition)</b>
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<p><b>paranoico</b></p>
<p>published: 1-28-2018</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>what do you think of when you think of paranoia?<br />
constantly looking over ones shoulder, like in an action movie<br />
or never able to leave ones room for fear of assassins<br />
or a repulsion to the human touch</p>
<p>paranoia can also be learning how to tell people apart<br />
not by the ridges in their faces<br />
and the cracks in their voices<br />
but in the way they manhandle doorknobs<br />
and how their steps thunder down the staircase<br />
and how they unapologetically belch the worst of their germs into the shared air<br />
without a single thought for the people around them</p>
<p>paranoia was a white room at my old house, soon bleeding green<br />
with the computer screen facing the door<br />
always afraid that, at any moment, a certain pair of eyes would come wandering in<br />
and make up some infraction to punish me for</p>
<p>paranoia is the ever-friendly Kubuntu installer<br />
at the start of yet another reinstallation<br />
ignorance should never be a defense<br />
but a black curtain is one part of staying out of the schools sweaty, meaty, unwashed claws<br />
and the bear trap always swinging over my head</p>
<p>paranoia is a tolerable vegetable<br />
constantly questioning my humanity<br />
and in return, it gives me the assurance<br />
that I might as well have been a robot all along</p>
<p>and I continue to listen to the stairs<br />
a pair of white socks and crows feet<br />
a lumbering, a miscalculation</p>
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