Alone

A gullible man with poor luck finds himself alone. The solitude leads him inward, lost in a sand storm, mired in madness until the simple presence of a being in need restores him...for a moment.

Storytellers & Artists: D.Lasala

Year: (c) 2007

I. SAP

__( - - )__ 


II. UNDER THE LADDER

Under the ladder again. Praising the faultless-factor. 

Nothing to smash and shatter. Under the ladder again. 

Why are you smiling. Because they'll let us. 

Why are you howling. Ate spaghetti breakfast. 

What's the matter now. Oh nothing at all. Throw away little stone. 

Nothing's the matter. Keep pushing now. 

Keep pushing now. Keep pushing now. 

I know I know. But that's not the way to remove it. 

And that's not the way it's done. but what's it matter. 

It's all from below. And behold all you doubters. Look at it go. 

Why are you smiling. Because they'll let us. 

Why are you howling. Ate spaghetti breakfast. 



III. WHERE AM I

I don't get headaches. At least I didn't used to. 

But the ache outside has worked it's way in. 

Through my eyes, through my ears, through my skin. 

And I can't figure out what to do. Oh, how trite. How completely trite. 

But inspite of the words I swear it's all true. 

Keeping track of nothing to do. Finding ways to see it through. 

Nothing is familiar that I see. And I don't see you. 

Blank and dull. Nothing seeing plain eyes. 

Eyes seeing plain eyes. Eyes seeing you. 

Keeping track of nothing to do. Finding ways to see it through. 

Nothing is familiar that I see. And I don't see you. 



IV. SAND STORM

How does it sound. Like a faceless chase. Like a chaseless race. 

How does it sound. Like the place I stayed. Like the place I made. 

Sometimes I think I think too much. 

Then I realize i always think too much. 

Running in circles. Trying to find my way. 

Then I wonder what does a blind man dream. 

What makes the sound from that hidden place. 

From my own disgrace. 

Now I have found nothing on which to base the truth which I embrace. 

The truth which I embrace. 

Sometimes I think I think too much. 

Then I realize i always think too much. 

Running in circles. Trying to find my way. 

Then I wonder what does a blind man dream. 



V. TOO MUCH OR NOT ENOUGH

_/--\_


VI. AMIABLE

(00)


VII. AGAIN

Idealess and blameless. 

Pretentious and shameless. 

Suicidally brave. 

Moronically genius. 

Invariably crazy. 

Parentally unjust. 

Enthusiastically lazy. 

Idealess and blameless. 

Idealess and shameless. 

Idealess and aimless.