I just wish you were here when I woke up. I wish all these titular icons who are a very microcosm of your very selves could accompany me through all my day, where I feel crazy, like crying and neuro, pyschosexual. When I dig up the super machismo porno and pretend im getting manhandled. .
when my arms are too weak to type, to lift and all in all when my dilemmas pursue me and ride me like a professional racer, like my ass, eing grazed without relent, and keeping zooming full speed, spiralling through space like a comet into oblivion. When I sit here,
and my mind wanders and beckons, beg for a taste, just for taste of life, even if visual, if even comical
if even something representative of someone's (real) life... because i dont live. but I cherish
the past and all of it's heaviness that it pulls on my skin and the russian cabbage-ness and all the million
like minds lonely and thirsting for compatibility on this large vast and seperatist cold rock.. I've given in
to some things.. and they are not like giving in sexually.. not the least bit exciting or kinky..
Ive given comfort a nesting place.. a comfortable bode where it lays it's eggs and and merely keeps me at bay
for it's pregnancy mitgh one day be complete, its young will run over and demolish my nest of my ambition.
my eye beckons to release all that it is storing in its glands, for im a wreck, like many of you.. and im glad.. for im not alone.
i am on the same forums seeking the same oracle, ..the same me in a different or parrellel universe.
I reflect the world's insecurity.. as you do,, and im glad when i know there is you.. because then
i know there is me also
and you replenish me with your wits about life, and your fresh reflections in the same fucked up mirrors,
and i dearly hope that i will wake up tomorow, .. and i dearly cry out of mere agony for the deficit of life churning about me.. . around me, the past tense speaking, the non shocking myself, the realized standards they have already set for me.. because i think that is just it.. that ive settled for living for someone else.. as soon as my gemini lover rocketted into oblivion and his rotten twin was cast forth. my mind has chasmed, like my clay.. and my will has fallen onto an entertainers large satin lips.
my minid has keenly and anxiously installed jewels and embedded gold and precious stones into another's words.. and the world he has praised me from.. and perhaps my esteem is so low.. as i virtually dissaprove of those who love me and view monsters in my sleep,. behemoth and clod. those monsters are my self hatred,
which i think.. maybe just maybe is accompanied by pyscho sexuality.
my manners are too brandished and stagnancy will kill me and my dreams forever.. when i have come to and realized that
being stagnant never created the ancient mariner and his creator, and his, and onward, that every writer
and every incredible creature whose brought life to this midst of deaths has themselves been a carrier
of some heavy but impartial truth, some granter of otherwise other voice, of other life, extension
of real beautiful gifts to those who grieve for all the grievers in the world. all it must take is for me to wake up and to realize there are millions like us, like me, like you, we together must live and when empathy beckons its wise chin towards seperatism, then I can understand why I was made. When I tell myself over and over again.. a coward was not Shakespeare and time him did not wait,
we must awake from this sleepwalking and embrace fear and pursue life
ourselves. we deserve it, god damnit. havent I realzed that if i have come to no one (you) to seek help, im often just seeking YOUR warrent for MY living?? If your on, im good.. FUCK THAT
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