My moment of impact this week occurred after watching The Truman Show for the second time in at least a decade. This moment, which is still unfolding, occurred as Jim Carrey delivers his Oscar-worthy performance as Truman Burbank having a nervous breakdown in the process of hunting for truth in an entirely fictitious world. The rolling waves and thundering night sky you see in the GIF there are man-made, the product of a television set that Truman doesn’t even know he was raised on.
Was he looking at me?
Whizzy Annette, golly
Give me an answer, I guess, please
Guess who, guess him, give me
A word I mean
Give me a word I mean
Give me a vehicle I mean
I can only be me
And you, Annette?
Guess me, guess me
Find me, find me
Will he find me? Will he see?
The enclave, the dust
Of my privacy
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Originally posted on Consciousness creates reality:
We had to conceal our laughter as if we were children at midnight you could trip and fall face first down a dark—down a neon—chasm so hold on tight…
When I give you the backlight
You stop, stumble, starryblind
I push on beyond the blurred lines
Hoping that these mirrors are spinning lies
When you ask me if I have the heart
I stop and stare and flick the dart
The demons rolling down the road
Those angels only look the part
The heat is breaking my skin
My seared eyes, I’m living in
Oh daddy, help me survive
Help me, my breath is caving in
He holds my arm back
From a strong sprint
The prancing gaslights
His berry-eyed glint
The saints of Arcadia
A candid serenity
Don’t talk back, boy
Are you my enemy?
So from whom do I run
On the Grand Desert Calypso?
The tumbleweeds ceased their cries,
and the drink chills the hows, the whos, the whys