My Reckless Id

My id wears shit kickers
it has to
no way it could make through this malarkey
stimulating my pleasure center without them....
through all of life's bullshit
I'm freaking happy
not afraid to shout it from the roof tops either

uncoordinated but who's id isn't?
my basic instinct,
do what feels good
at whatever cost
my id's reality
is not reality
but hey, if I'm smiling :)
selfishly laughing at the world
time means nothing
should it?

fuck my ego
I love my id
its me, at my most primal most real
unconsciously seeking me to be me
not worrying about right or wrong
destructive only if you are the moral police
my ego is present for the purposes of logic only
superego and the inner critic flew off together
guilt is for the guilty
something I never looked good in
nice people get fucked, not me I do the fucking
regret? for what? so you stop living
start dwelling?
the id to simple?
perhaps.......