Inside Alis (Part Two)

Alis Diamond is strange. She purposely avoids any exercise in which she is required to analyze herself because she is not really her own entity at all, but an amalgamation of tangible influences contributed by thousands upon thousands of knowing and unknowing people. Alis knows she is strange, and she's satisfied, even pleased, with that simple definition.

Alis is a collector of ideas, thoughts and impressions. She is each day the "clean slate" which psychologists claim can only be maintained for the first few days after birth. She channels her energies not into finding herself, for she is just a pinball on a world machine. She directs her efforts toward understanding the rest of the world.

Inner peace and equilibrium are precious gems in the mantle of humanity, to be sought out and obtained only after deconstructing (not destroying) one's outer core of hardened emotion and pragmatism. Each irony, each insignificant inconsistency in world society, is a pin prick in the tinder of a battered straw voodoo doll clasped tightly in the hands of fate.

Alis feels the strangeness of human existence as would a single grain of white sand on a wide vacant beach. She goes with the tide.

Self Emmolation (A Man with a Cause)

All the waves of society's underestimation
cannot wash out the flame of intent
intent on recognition
it cannot be extinguished
it is only transferable.

The warmth which envelopes the emoliate
and charges him with purpose
sends its fiery tongue to lick the public's conscience
to singe their souls
and taunt them
And as all protruberances of the human host
become concave
the blood and fleshy sinew hearts of a few
bystanders
meet with reason
and strain outward from their shallow sockets
Their lives have been touched
by the passing of a stranger's

And like the smoking remains
of charred bone and teeth
The long and painful journey
lies prostrate before them.