Idle eyes

The quantity and quality of poison. He gives the orders, and he carries them out. The reason is distinguishable, discernable, obsiously different after awhile. I did something I shouldn't have, again needless to say and so I'll live to tell about it I'm sure. I have a car, it may be the only reason we get along, let alone around.
He tells me what to do, and I do it because I'm scared, that he'll hurt me and the people I care about if I refuse. He knows everything about me, even what I'm going to do before I do it. I've tried to get out of his schemes before, but it's inevitable because he's so much more clever than I. Wherever I go or try to do to get out of it, there he is with another good idea.
Last night, we were parked in a back alley for a long time before he gave me a picture of what was waiting for me inside, and he told me what would happen if I did not continue. I couldn't say a thing as I thought of my family and my safety. I found myself alone walking down a hallway, but I came to the outside door with him waiting inside the car, as I could see his lighter and then the cherry of his cigar through the tint of the window. I stopped dead in my tracks as the entire memory of what happened to me inside the building was lost to me, as the sky lightened and the birds were singing in the distance.
My head hurts this morning, as usual, and I've included all the details my thought will provide. I needed to get it out before I got any further, from the truth, to provide us with an artifact of these night stalkers, psychic vampires that operate in their nocturnal domain. They tell me what to do and I can only presume that you are hardly different. We have the vehicle and they need us to do their bidding. There is only one world, and where we go when we lose control is all within the same space.
I'm going back to the spot, I'm trusting the turns I've already taken to get me there again. I need to look for evidence to remember just how I got here. I missed something, I wasn't writing it all down and as I get older I'm constantly getting better, at a mutual expense, to get stronger to get stronger to get stronger. The day job is grunt work, and at night I do what I have to do to keep up with myself. I don't always understand my boss's intentions, if ever, but this organism is based on trust, that if we rub together enough we'll start a fire rather than add to it. A vacuum is a self contained device that needs another vacuum inside of it to know first breath. I realize I'm wasting time and losing friends and that thought is the opposite of action. The future is as grim as its always been. I'm glad someone needs me while I'm here, I have no idea anymore of what's in store for me. I knew what to do when I was handed lemons, but my fridge is full of decomposing fruit that I have no idea what to do with. We all have bosses in the land of opportunity, lives to lead or be led. I have complete faith in humanity and hope for those who choose to be a part of it or not. "Don't worry baby, everything will turn out all right."