IN THE ROOM
We lie awake at night and discuss the delusions, or truth that we are secret terminator robots controlled by some vast conspiracy of idiots and they are holding us hostage because the wiring has gone off.
The crazier he sounds the more I recognize my self in his delusions. I’ve been that terminator on the fritz.
And I wonder at about a more poetic time when people thought they were Napoleon. How great it would be to think you were secretly the emperor of France. I mean it beats Shwazanegger by a mile.