Words Words Words. delirious words in a somnolent world. I am walking through walls. I can't stand it sometimes. People tack on all they can everywhere, all this stuff like packs of gum: chew, spit. I wander. I will suddenly notice myself counting my fingers with my thumb. I read pages of books only to realize i am only looking at words because ( Read more... )

People ( Read more... )

I felt the need to put something, any damn thing on here so this ( Read more... )

Sometimes, I can only see the air in front of my face, and tectonic plates shift and grind filling my ears with carpet tidal waves. There is no fog, smoke, or vapor, no impediment except the reflective nature of nothing that seperates people from the vast rest of everything. It's not the nothing of pitch-black or closed eyes when fireworks of ( Read more... )

So there's this. I dunno ( Read more... )

Surreptitious drips condensing and sliding, eroding, something on the window that doesn’t matter, sidling through the periphery. It is all shapeless and fuzzy there where everything but nothing was accumulating because of course nothing is the only thing in existence that doesn’t exist. The focus of all erudite eyes sedulously sustain the obscure, ( Read more... )

So, I keep jumping this fence. Oh, there is an open gate but no barbed wire. I think it's a stupid thing to do, but i am compelled to go over. I need the wire to catch and cut my clothes, get some blood on my hands, fall hard on the other side looking ragged and ridiculous. An embarrassingly obvious place for a fence. Wilderness-City, danger-safety ( Read more... )

Full of desperate hope, I come to break down. I think I'm drowning face down in shallow water in hopes that the mud at the bottom is beneficial to my skin. Ugh that sucked start over ( Read more... )

I keep sleeping through the rain. It gets dried up pretty quick. There are usually only a few easily avoidable puddles. Everything's getting green sucking up the water. The wind has been blowing much the past week, so spring flowers are losing their poignancy to me. Tulips have already bloomed in fact, and there's not much to them after they open ( Read more... )

See it, hear it all. The sporadic drip from melting ice on the catwalks and the rustling plastic covering an air conditioner in the building across the path. The snow is an acceptable substitute for cloud-engulfed stars, but the cold is no substitute for comfort. Ghostly irridencent ground flanks and sometimes crosses over the same beaten cracked ( Read more... )