(Id) is the dark, inaccessible part of our personality...and most of this is of a negative character...It is filled with energy reaching it from the instincts, but it has no organization, produces no collective will, but only a striving to bring about the satisfaction of the instinctual needs...
- Sigmund Freud
Id of a Joke
I am what I am
And the past does not shape me
For what is a past
But to use as an excuse?
Pasts are for weaklings
Who look back from who they are
Whereas I can smile
At my reflection ahead
And caress the lines
That stretch the width of my mouth
The rictus is real
Therefore I am beautiful
Blessed above all men
Because I don't need a self
What I see is there
And that's what matters the most
That is why I laugh
For I know something you don't
You're scared to let go
So that's why you can't join me
Too scared to touch fire
To lick the blade of a knife
To inhale napalm
To dance in shrapnel fragments
To sleep with shadows
To sing words that mean nothing
To scream out silence
To travel into black holes
To point at yourself
Then laugh for the hell of it
Realizing the world
Is in denial of the truth
Humanity slaves
Upon useless purposes
When living itself
Has no reason to speak of
It may take a while
But I'll make you see the art
Of breaking right down
And dying without a care