this is what it sounds like when my life passes by...

(author's disclaimer: i have absolutely no idea what this is. my sister offered, "seems like your muse is on crack." this is potentially the case, although i did not imbibe any crack rock nor any other controlled or illegal substance while writing this. [shocking, i know.] sometimes i write, and this is what is expressed. any thoughts, ideas, notions, complaints, questions [although there's a scarce chance i can actually answer said questions], confusions, feelings, or any thing else brought to mind by this "something" is greatly appreciated. most of all, any idea what the fuck this is?)

this is what it sounds like when my life passes by...

*333#%#$@^!^&@^$!(@)*#&#$^@&**#@|||@&@^ _

* sorry for the delay.
333 this is what prays on me.
#%# juxtaposed
$ capitalism
@ sensation contrived unending
^!^ yet more excites while less - no more! - sings sights before.
&@ creeping out the door, shaking up the concrete.
^$! yet another capitalist thrown in the stew to boil with radishes, cabbage, and art-it-CHOKES
(@) sensory data distributed
* sorry for the delay.
#&# circles and circles and circles and circles and circles and circles and circles and circles and circles and...
$^@ capitalism and another mighty scene
& this wasn't supposed to be here.
* sorry for the delay.
* it's frustrating for me too.
# nothing is ever enough.
@|||@ gaps hold truth unseen.
&@ to the only thing that never made anysense
^ and another thing
_ (which screams off-set)