selective memory.
time is of the essence, but I remember nothing of being born again… the crude matter of getting home was tiring my thoughts beyond compare… a turn of the wheel later, and the sour moments drift away as the door closes behind me… the compounded feelings of satisfaction and sensory overload were consuming a place that I could not lie to, the part of me that was not yet dead, and the rhythm of my heart kicked in at gradual steps behind my movements… layers of clothing fell away as I began to reach at the knobs to the bathroom, to relax inside a warm bath, and house my hindered state into a watery mercy… it hurt to ache this bad wanting nothing more than to bathe away stressful sources of my own decay… my mind was feeling this …
homo-neurotic-uh.
out of Context;
‘are we those soulless machines that we see gliding across the streets in horror at the state of the as yet to be place we are always inhabiting?… some of us are walking nightmares, and we beat back our inner demons only to unleash them at the most unjustifiable moments at those that do not need the pain…’
the slow periods.
out of Context;
‘the menace lies outside the walls… waiting… fires burn the ashes of evidence in the wake of our mishaps with laws and functions… to stay in line or walk away?… difficult defined those one-word wayward saints… actions… to make the day how we want it… only the jerk-offs hear nonsense as their dead nazi incestors make up their minds for them…’
the 666 words
out of Context;
‘the tunnel grows sharp as it inserts and asserts itself in the anatomy of gesturing symbols… they twist apart and leave their striking point in the conscious plane… it changes from mouth to mouth for a chance to stick somewhere that it has never been before… a furious freak out that we can’t see as deftly as we need… under the surface, it mates itself sparingly with torrential outpouring of restless emotions…’
long weekend into oblivion.
out of Context;
‘I shall set forth and acquire the right supplements to isolate from the state of reflection that weekend’s can achieve sometimes, but is oblivion the best moniker for this situation?… post-October, what are we left with for a fall season, and how does one cope with the pain inherent in the mysteries?… the unknown always presents the most interesting riddles to perceive…’
Quote of the Month; November….2008
“I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
~ Jack Kerovac; american author, philosopher and poet.