CIRCA MYCA

I live in a mad world.

A world where dogs eat ice cream for lunch.

Where I dance with tall, crooked lamp posts smiling at me.

Where filthy roaches fly like butterflies.

I live in a mad world.

A world where its free to fly.

Where soda is such an out of body experience.

Where I could paint my room black and violent red.

I live in a mad world.

A world where old lovers sing lullabies.

Where dying people make their last wish in candy stores.

Where clocks fly and have fun, literally.

I live in a mad world.

A world where band aids are the new post-its.

Where we can make clouds of different shapes out of massive mass smoking.

Where the vowel letters of the alphabets dont exist.

I live in a mad world.

A world where inflated egos have price tags.

Where dangling spirals made out of black strings and grey cardboard cut-outs with dark green glitters glued to them looking like an art project on silly mute chimes exist.

Where doctors use toy stethoscope for work.

I live in a mad world.

A world where household chores are non-existent.

Where anything that is stranger is better.

Where I can wear naked and call it a costume.

I live in a mad world.

A world where I can collect all inkless pens I could find and call them treasure.

Where I can drink in a cup made out of paper.

Where Algebra is all about eating and not counting.

I live in a mad world.

A world where clowns go to jail for scaring little kids.

Where bed time monsters also have beds under every childs bed.

Where maps and road signs are prohibited.

I live in a mad world.

A world where I can misspell my own name.

Where everybody who prays before going to bed gets to own a pool the next morning.

Where running is never tiring.

I live in a mad world.

A world I made all for myself.

A world I can share with bugs and sea creatures and to anybody who reads this.

A world all inside my head.