Acid Reign

Thoughtful Sleep

Acid Reign


The inquest 

Excerpts from the diary of Richard McClenan (1971-1989) 

April 6 (Thursday) 

Mother, 
Do you think of me as your son 
Or am I just a complication 
I need you now, I need you now 
A woman of the eighties 
You never have time for anyone 
I know your shadow, not your face 
It breaks the light in my lonely room 
As I lie awake in thoughtful sleep 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep 

Father, 
Remember me I am your son 
Or am I just a distraction 
I need you now, I need you now 
You live in a material world 
People aren't people, they're what they own 
With your keyboard fingers and green screen brain 
Car phones, hotels, suitcases and planes 
Please squeeze me in, I do exist 
When time is money what price is love 

April 9 (Sunday) 

Even when I was young you didn't notice me 
I was raised on helpers, TV and pity 
When I cried for help you threw me money 
All I wanted was a pound of your time 
I feel 
Pity for you and your mentality 
Hate for you and what you've done to me 
Resentment for all your selfishness 
Content, content only within my emptiness 

Here we see Richard's true mixture of emotions 
Bitterness, rejection, contempt even hate 
All of which began to plague him more and more in the following days 

April 14 (Friday) 

I would try to explain 
But you would never listen 
I would try to break through 
That's the time you would shut me out 
I'd just bottle up all my emotions 
These feelings bite like a knot inside 
This pain I carry in solitude 
Chained to me in loneliness 
Depression has me, he is my king 
He shows the path that I must take 
A perversion of justive of the saddest kind 
To enter my dreams and I shall not wake 

April 15 (Saturday) 

As I sit by fading light 
And write to you this final note 
To exercise my divine right 
A lump begins to swell my throat 
You cannot see this tear-stained face 
You cannot hear these tormented cries 
If you don't understand my actions 
Then you must read between the lines 
And now I throw back in your face 
The only gift for which you didn't pay 
The gift of breath, of life, of being 
Something I no longer see a purpose in 

As I embrace eternal sleep 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep