As I’ve said before there is this delirium continually encroaching upon my psyche. Sitting in the corner, covered by a thin veil of cerulean shadow… Slowly poking toe after toe out of the dark. It’s frightening sometimes…. Sometimes it isn’t though as I feel like those toes are my own, those yellow tinted eyes that stare at me from above. Those two glowing orbs are familiar… They feel as my own nose feels; ingrained, and I cannot quite pin down as to why but they give me hope. Seeing that creature seep limb by limb from the shadow makes me smile and removes my longing gaze from existence.
He told me to lend myself to the fear filled fallacies, the hate hollowed horrors that do walk hand in hand with my cheery demeanor. He told me to tell my reason off and reach for that musk of idiocy, the warm and loving embrace of delusion. He told me these things, and I could barely pull away from that held hand he so gingerly presented to me, but for now I have managed to stray away from desire… This once only I presume.
So Gene Wilder passed away … Frankly I found that a fair bit shocking. It was one of those things like, you know, I hadn’t thought of the man for… likely years and then all of a sudden BOOM! He has passed. Its everywhere and I’m left, not completely emotionally incompetent…. nor was I stricken with grief. I was simply surprised, a little disappointed. Chances are I would have never met Gene, but there was always the possibility. And now that possibility to interact with such a wonderful image has been removed. Torn Up, I actually felt something quite similar when Robin Williams died. I felt as if I had just experienced some personal loss… And I mean I had, that possibility and opportunity for appearance has now vanished. I’m not hurting poorly but I definitely feel a pang, a hunger to interact, I feel disappointment and most of all I am humbled by the reminder of death. Simply tragic frankly, at least we still have the movies… And granted I know nothing of the man, his home life, or his out of the spotlight antics but I admire what he was a part of. The lunacy that he helped bring to life… And honestly that’s all I truly care about right now, cause when I think of Gene Wilder I think of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory… And the longer I do think about Gene, I more notice his dedication and proliferation of seemingly decent lunacy. He was paraded as a nice normal…. If not eccentric man. But you could easily see that lurking behind his blue eyes was a performed madness…. A lunacy I feel I can relate to. As a kid I do remember indulging in certain oddities included in the film. It was brilliant and I feel as if it inspired parts of my continued creativity. I liked it. Soooooo I drew Gene… Or Willy Wonka. And not simply as a face, Firstly because I am shit at drawing normal faces… But I drew him as I viewed him as a child, as the picture that was painted within my head. I looked quickly at that iconic pose, the hand daintily resting his chin, and then I just drew from memory. I enjoyed that. So what I uhmm created was something for I, it is my vision and perception of one of my idols. Its a memory from a time where I don’t have many memories and I quite cherish that. He may have been a little off but it is quite my type of off. I really love this drawing, mainly for the personal significance. It is really sad, I guess you could say I’m mourning a little bit… Enjoy yourselves,
I have a name for my brain
I call him Gerald
Gerald’s a plain name
And that’s truly all I want
To throw away my oddities
For those same old commodities
That everyone else seems to know
I want to blow off my responsibility
And not have to feign sanity ever again
And become just another person;
I want to be plain old Gerald the brain.
I never wanted to be
Your traditional outlaw
No grimy smile or far flung loogie
No sturdy steed or metal spurs
No no no that was not for me
What I always wanted to do
Was to be something unique
Something proud and free
Progressive and elegant
So of course I wanted to be
A glue sniffing zucchini thief
That would indeed be
the life for me.
Those eyes are floating
I keep finding them bouncing around
Right outside that window in my head
Pupils right down on mine they stare
And show me what I never could care: to view
That meaning, that charming intent
That absurd validity that so eluded me
But those floating eyes they found it
Right there brooding inside my dusted head
Stir, stir, stir, around inside my mush
And do try to seek and find my mind
But you could never truly find me within.
Lies; Those little eyes though they found me.
The me I may never get to know.
Whether or not you see it
The truth is quite true
And it won’t ever change
So see the truth please
Cause if you dont see it
You’ll become like a lie
And I don’t associate with
The slyest fools like you
So do try to see the truth
Please do it for me
And do it for you.