As he sits and wanders. Still asleep yet profoundly waking, staring at this vastly chasm mocking echoed sounds of his alarm. It chuckles to the around for transparent friends do gather. Looping and surrounding the waking man’s confusion; alone and fearful eyes wide shut, sanity gaps, mind traps spring out.

And if he is to pass this long and troubled desert session must he not break the bonds of terror then rush headlong to unknown regions. An empty and fogged map bereft of sights seen or familiarities, of paths assured and paths comforting, of soothing youth fantasies that maketh the man lose time.

What map is given, what items stored to help any who quest for something more. Something to make the fight of fear more palatable.

Advertisements

guiltThey all right we be wrong

We the quiet dull sparkers

In the background sucking up the guilt shit

Why the arrogant bully asses gotta take up the defensive pleas

Fuck em bully loudies that get the long con referendum

Lies lies permeate the society

Lies make us

Make us me me

I gotta take that nasty, twisted anger and funnel it into iron. Weights and lifting and muscles fathoming the limits of broheim control, jock stereotype placement. Can I breathe n get strong without being lumped with testosterone playmates? Jungle gym primates and alien migrants tonguing cheeks and loud mouths. 

Can I live, am I overdone and exaggerated? Alleviated, hated, fated and selfishly motivated. Why we lie and act so selfless? All we want is accolades and well wishes. Please love me, love us, enough judge of the neediness. This was anger release now confession continuous.  Wish my brain would splurge out instead of blog posts expressing half sungs.

Past said, Now said

Is it a privilege to know someone so deeply? That isn’t antithetical to my my peaceful, warming, envelop us philosophy? Not quite love but the road of understanding rinding rolling twisting rounds through, from, between us. Minds reads hearts and whistle wallows that say a something. Your something. World mumblings. Listen lots, talk some.

Seperate selves turmoiled in business jags edged against pressure heads. Hard knocked skulls keeping straight eyes and downed heads. Cultivate profit, make money money mine mine mine. Ears plugged, brands up, heads see water rise then take gulping breaths. Breathe. Now now quickly, no time for rest just push pull society lacking words for community. 

Shriveled tenders limp and making pretend prostrate. Bowing outer screamers inside, douse with drugs and middle wine. Turn shoulders away and eye the goal posts.

Then you can go on with deception and confusion and the constant lukewarm war. Friends like peers and acquaintance with business cards and links to follow. I forget a face and we all become shapes and figures with sculpture makeup. Eyes glued elsewhere while ears plugged and flighty, music refreshes but voices tinny around, value drop like copper tops. Bitcoin slops. Maybe tomorrow sunny.

What’s it like

What’s it like when you’re head’s not full of words

What’s it like after body shots that drain emotional spots spin their wheels 

What you say during growing when the monster inner growls its yearning 

Desire taketh over and pissed off vibes runneth closer 

Tell me what to think, what to say

Aren’t you tired of independence yet

Aren’t you sick of differential split 

Like a math formula they all got bored of

Where is the friends that rise up the horrid

Sinking loose lips trying to kiss but getting frogs

When do I, we, get some cover 

Manholes, sinkholes, open opening

Think enough

Think too much

What is life without a thought 

What do I go on for but to entertain myself 

Nuts to the wall but friends can’t always humor 

I alone make better merriment 

Those lovely friends just apparitions 

Hear others say such love such life

Where to find these spirits nigh

Where to let loose mindly clutter

What’s it like when silence is

ADHD Adieu

I feel like I want the drugs, the extra pre scripts that dull and conjecture me, juxtapose my posie me with poised poses that work on the city. Big cities, we all freaky people-span of attention quizzical and busy. Don’t want to be like those Ridilin kids, that predays when chest felt empty, hollow feels and dull mouth mumbling stubbles. Want the focus though. Craving it, insane with the turbulence of concentration flummox just hazy day/night pulling eyes towards bookies and epubs; texts perused aloof for half minutes then abandoned for miles as I run lapse to other projects. Poor bookies, old and new and digital too, looking for touch with silent folds and bookmarks saving forgotten trysts. 

Want focus but it must be earned by me. Natural work my butt off training without the montages.  Spend some hours for several pages or sparse ink lines.

1/24/17

Take the solace in solemn silent promises to twitchy McGee walls up

I could sit at the table with the pad so empty

So much white space it thrilled me then fearfully

Set up this desk for inkling inking

Architectural digesting passes through

Sketches and illustrates take a tick off my subpar

No one can see me tic running tick tock forever waiting for perfection

Perfectionist obsessive kid

Basement/office dwelling third place reversing

Adversity trumpeted

Bulked up to level this

Eyes on surpass but lacking push button confidence

Stuck to me, you, Irene too

Head jerking venting to release that dark stain joo joo

Screw the straightheads staring stone-faced

reject redirect Rob rejects

Upset relax meditate relapse

Pressure foments as my fingers bent

Curse the digits and hands clawing

Feel arthritic and Parkinson’s sick

High on the worry and losing the dismissive

Give in to obese obsess suppress subset stress

Feelin’ fine

Thankless