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Today he hugged me while I sat under my favorite tree wanting to crawl underground.
I felt wholly accepted, and basked in the glow of the sun in december
(which of course is infinitely better like food is oh-so-much-tastier when stolen)
Today, tomorrow, and every day after this
I will want no more and no less.
oh, to not-need,
to forget myself,
to find salvation in things that will not destroy me-
but enough,
.
Begin: 1:58 A.M.
Begin: fully processing the moment
how chemicals can fully possess you, how words are
smooth coins-
the exhiliration! how difficult it becomes to write in the captive arms of freedom, of the breath-
this feeling of flying and of falling, how we have always
been searching for it.
Yes yes, I have
always been searching for
for this,
your quiet eyes
your voice, these
dancing notes
i cannot both write and experience these feelings
but i must try, as i have always
been meant to try
oh the body,
where you were always
meant to be.
oh the bated breath,
the heightened awareness,
that pre-race warmup
mile around the block
tripping out on your
own letters
as you
write them
down
n
n
n
yeS! to be
here!
where where?
right here!
to do
absolutely nothing
to do this
and this
to do things for their own
god’s fucking sake
to be this
crazy fucking creature
independent of social construct
and of your construct
and of this great urgency,
this sense of foreboding
be the feeling you wish to create in people
it doesn’t even matter what the writing on the wall is saying
you love just reading it
this:
you are just a
little sneaky creature
watching things move
it’s all waiting for us
here now
we are
waiting
for this
second
this
is all i need, all
i need is this
an instant of
utter bliss,
etcetera
you sweet little etcetera!
i have fallen in love
with this place, i
have fallen in love
with this time
thank the lord that i’m insane.
(tonight is the story of
how you were a hero
come come let us disintegrate!)
reminders:
-your mind, perhaps?
-all of these
things for smoking
-tearing down preconceived
notions, your sense of being
derived from the delectable now.
Because the clouds above me are washed purple from the urgent electricity of the city below.
Because I walk down these familiar roads in the pouring rain at five in the morning on the first of december,
not wanting to be anywhere else in the world.
Things could only ever make sense to me exactly this way.
And to you, you who would sparkle like fresh morning grass,
you darlings of a generation,
oh never could my sad, bewitched eyes
be more or less in your gaze.
Opium + Mushrooms + Marijuana = blazing ecstatic pretty shiny things!
Running, the pulse skips ahead
of the steps, a beating reminder
of sheer mortality.
Throwing everything out the window:
to be free one must give up
all things, and possibly you.
A challenge with the eyes-
you looked right through as
I walked away.
(unfortunately, profundity was never present anywhere but in my own head)
I refused to kiss you, lay back
in my seat, air drumming;
the moon erased the anonymity
of night, I saw things plainly.
Do you think I am any more magic
than you? I don’t- the sea
marks the edges of my existence.
A falling
in- into a dream, into a story:
a ghost hiding in the corners
of your smile, a whisper
of a moment.
“Things fall
apart; the center cannot hold.”
the truest lines ever written.
in the center of your pulse i feel your fear,
there is a draft in this place too swift to ignore.
painted lines float off the road like steam,
the trees are topped with fog.
restless and
without dreams-
in the darkness small doubts crawl
into the veins,
tearing through translucent tissue.
no acts
without thoughts.
no thoughts
without desires.
things creep unbidden into a boiling consciousness.
as hot liquid energy ricochets!
boosting encapsulated electricity! as the
yawning pink dawn light folds around the
verdant songs of morning, to where
they had arisen, where the
day would place them!
-lonely as wind is through barren fields,
tranquil as stillness is
beneath the breath.
this rising sun ignites the tired mind,
rubs the moonshine from my eyes.
Let the sweet silence pervade,
let it hold the day enraptured,
laced with promise.
(this is my whispered
confession: nothing is in
my hands, i am floating and
wind-torn, thinking at the sky,
the castles are turning to cardboard above
my head while the sea crashes to shore,
obedient, always,
to the will of the moon.)
An incessant pulling
down; there is a silence in sound
i can’t play another note
i can’t stay another minute
if you keep running you will never
be
formed.
if you keep giving you will never
be
full.
through my dream last night a woman
crawled, hissed in my ear:
solace
is not for you, salvation is
eternal damnation, nothing
will ever
be
constant,
and more than that
you are broken.
when i open my mouth to scream she bites my tongue.
—
when i see you all i want to do is chase away all feeling
fuck you for showing up when i least expect you to
here’s to silent, undiscoverable, close your eyes to ward you off, my-
sterious lurking murmur of-
one long year of your looking at me like that is quite
enough, thank you.
don’t
do it, don’t conceive of it, keep
your head above water. The moment you
give in they will hold you hostage!
Today the wind tells you secrets
depend only on your mind.
A crash, an immediate silence, a yawning-
the calm air bathes my thoughts
each night I curl up helplessly in the embrace of your memory
yet every time there is a falling
-out, the ground drops away
you swallow a handful of air
the solid ground ripples and waves
ash like a dry skeleton coats your tongue
wings dipped in wine
try not to drown in the air around your feet.
Every time your eyes meet mine,
this is when I fall
-apart, let’s fall apart and shed our skin
close our eyes and breathe fire in.
days spinwheel into night,
sleepless and bright.
Who let the stars in?
Everything burns
like the salt of your sweat on your lips
(and it holds you
like the wind holds you to the edges of things)
I wish that I had never met you and I wish that I was stronger alone; your words are dark and take on a different tone. Night skies and low clouds exert a pressure on my mind, I search for everything I’ll never find. You’re stringing words like pearls brought up through algae curls; in the buzzing still air you’re lost and can’t bring yourself to care it’s the frost it’s the drum, nothing is there and your fingers tap their bird bone song while you’re waiting for the light to turn green.
I want something from everyone, and everything from someone. Life as I know it hinges on quixotic notions and ways to fill the hole in my soul. Lying in the dark. My breath keeps time with the seconds on the clock, tick tock, tick tock. What am I waiting for?
Loneliness: When you want something from everyone, and everything from someone, but no one wants anything from you
I should stop reading The Anarchist’s Cookbook while sitting in the dark at 2 in the morning. Makes for morbidity…
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