Mildly Artistic

A sterile tundra of linoleum beneath the bed, the lone object in the room. Her body lies immobilized paralyzed by the onslaught of tranquilizers They cannot stop the flurry of incomprehensible noise Reality Hallucinations form a world, entirely my own She is Salim the artist who can no longer distinguish life from art. The physical world transmogrifies nothing remains concrete. She lies there yelling Certain of revolution of a generation shedding the apathy that smothers us She is the radio connecting all 1,000 magical children