Simply fantasy. Simply fiction. Simply fascinating. In such a monotone way I speak, with eyes looking every direction but forward. Fools to him – every single one! To read, to see, to hear is what they lack. A grin from cheek to cheek, like the Cheshire cat, appear then disappear. One shoe on, one shoe off, hunched over in hysterics laughing at you with a pathetic smirk revealing satisfaction. He watches me I fear. Fast asleep with only the mechanical wind for a lullaby, he hovers above me snickering at my foolish state of vulnerability, laughing, mimicking. Simply dreadful. Simply deceitful. Simply devastating. He listens with precise sharpness of understanding and apathy that I believe, I follow. Simply a joker is all I find. Simply a liar of his own kind, but just how simply joyful was the simple joker?
March 25, 1997