Rebellion, Recklessness, Realization, Repentance, Restoration
Mail The Prodigal Child
The Prodigal Child's Home

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I am Electric Man
And the sparks I make are just for you.
Orange to blue to white
Sparks for clashing metal, sparks for thrown heat,
Sparks just because.
Because I am your Electric Man.
I'd make my universe
I'd throw my party
But who would come?
I can't do anything but repeat myself
In a thousand different ways.
A million million sparks shower from my fingertips,
Some burn, some are only warm, some tingle,
But they're all variations on the first one.
It's just too bad I've lost the first one
Among all of its successors.
But not to worry.
The sparks won't end.
After all, I am Electric Man.
Druggie, Dealer, Asshole, Nice Guy.
But does it matter when? What?
After all, even though I am who I am,
I'm just a man among men.
A million princes and a million paupers,
And I, hovering sometime somewhere between
But most of the time below.
Right Ox? Right Bear.
But for now all I can do is sit here.
So to pass time I play with my electricity.
Tossing impulses back and forth.
I don't accomplish anything
And neither does anyone else.
It's a nice balance for me.
I am Electric Man.
And in their passings, the impulses whisper to me.
"Why?" they ask.
"No," they warn.
"Go," they prod.
"Some day you WILL have your universe," they say.
They're right. Someday I'll have my universe.
And maybe I won't invite anyone.
Maybe I'll sit alone.
Because alone, nothing can make me feel stupid.
Nothing can make me feel useless.
Nothing can make me feel impotent.
Nothing can make me feel used.
Nothing can make me feel like a toke.
Nothing can make me feel like an afterthought.
Alone, nobody can take away my bowl of rice.
Just me and my electricity
Best of friends forever and ever.
No reason to hurt.
No reason to cry.
No reason to wonder whether I'm paranoid.
No reason to wonder how I can KNOW that I'm right
While at the same time KNOWING I'm wrong.
No reason to want what isn't there.
Because it'll be my universe.
It will be of my creation
So it will be mine to destroy.
And I'll be able to get away with starting every sentence with
"And."
Because I'll be THE Electric Man there.
Want some sparks?
Go 'head. Take 'em.
They're free.
Free for the asking.
My sparks are a little chaotic.
A little incoherent.
My words, what few they are, make little sense.
Seem a bit disjointed.
But that's okay. Believe me.
It's easier to shock something
If it doesn't know what's happening.
It's easier to say something
If you say it so nobody understands.