I.R.N.I - Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum

Through fire all things are renewed.
My skin burns and itches as I speak the words. My inner battle strengthened by the scales on my outer body. Each time I think there is some eureka moment in which I will banish the psoriasis into old scars. I know it is a fire burning inside of me and I feel the pain of the itch. I dread the public flaking and the mess I make in the presence of someone else’s room. In my own I can vacuum it up and push it from my mind with an itch and a sense of individual affliction. “Yay I am special I have a burning skin suite on that others do not have.”
Torn between love and hate of the condition.
Where does it lead me if I stare into my own abyss? Do I follow the past and remember my younger years when it first appeared? If so; I have done it many a time.
Do I delve deeper into the notion of an inner battle. Some incompetence of my self I am trying to fight and eradicate thus spurning my immune system into over drive. Kill off the enemy within. Is my mind and will so powerful that I can attack my own skin cells by a desire to cast off the old suite of armor.
Modesty in my abilities combined with a powerful ego that says I am all powerful, if not in this reality then at least in the world of my dreams. I cry out to the beast of myself to reveal so that I may face it head on without all this conjuring and shadow work. Show your true colors. I am a human being with wants and desires just like the rest! My only dream is to be just like everyone else!! “Oh what a lie!” I desire nothing of the sort. I want praise and recognition.
Yes. It is praise and recognition I want. Without the hard work. “A lie” “A lie” I want recognition for my life. Where am I from? What hardships have I endured? Who will recognize the words I have spoken, the pages I have written. The thoughts I have put down for others to read. A self proclaimed prophet I once was. I prophesized the downfall of this corporate woolen blind fold. Here we are in the year 2018 with a madman in charge of the US and a planet screaming with ecological disaster and meanwhile the greed prevails and the cult of celebrity wins the hearts of the global populace before any outrage over the military industrial complex. Where is my beast? Where do you hide?

Is it true that a creative type will struggle more than the narrow minded linear thinker because to earn a living in this day and age you must be more robotic than human?

Still I burn. I fight. Anger becomes complacency. Rage becomes old age.