ugly

I nearly drowned in the reflecting pool

can't think of what to do now
so I guess I'll take valium
which I don't have, so i'll approximate with valerian

I just want to stay down
dullened, sleep
I'd rather dream
life is too real and ridiculous
dreams make sense to me

in waking life i'm hung up on ego
which shreds in dreams, allows me to be completely other people
it's really quite extraordinary, my thoughts and words are polluted
with ideas like "consciousness" and "unconsciousness", but there is some
interesting process going on in that dissolve
to think of it as mundane is to be asleep, in waking life

i need a vacation from myself, i hate the oppressive gravity of the ego
and i'm sick of ground zero

radiant voices fill the cracks
i type into a box and add another scrap to the canon
for no other reason than to do something

dry meat pie... i ate most of it
drinking water
not threatened by flying leaches

wish the snow was gone, i don't enjoy being stoic anymore
i just want to walk in the woods like i did in the spring and summer and autumn
it heals me, re-casts the putrid self-stinking thoughts
i feel a part of something bigger and better
than that silly and sad world i've become attached to

nature is my religion, yeah, when i have one, which isn't often
but i'm like any stupid human - i'd sooner kill the ugly bugs
than the cute ones

*

so i'll sutrize this... and say i settled for cyclo
it may be morally wrong, but it's not the first time i've done that
a precurser to soma, they said
but they didn't really know

i'm going to be soporific today
it's the only way

blank the slate

buyers remorse creeps into the initial dosing period, it always does
wish i could fast forward until i was well into the cruise
i can't savor the changes
unless i'm on the upswell of some euphoriant

i'm acting like an addict today, embracing it
the aesthetic of addiction, the addict's ethic
even though it's not really me

listening to astral projection

vaguely depressed - is it alcohol withdrawal, is it cause the trams wore off, or is it because i feel like a loser? who cares, it's what i'm trying to run from, through chemical modification, and sleep - the unconscious, conscious but not, it's sexy to me, i lust for it - no, that analogy doesn't really work, it's not lust, it's love

astral projection is lovely - i need more weed - such an easy mod, barely feels like a drug - i want to keep drifting - i'm not happy, i'm dissatisfied and dejected, but in a drifty way which is nice - somewhat aloft - that's why i want to keep taking downers and beatific techno - astral projection can do no wrong - in heaven, the isrealis are the DJs

still got that weird tension in my teeth and joints - it's probably the pot

*

Fuck everyone.

It feels so good to say that. I don't know why. Anger is arrogance is energy is a rush is a high. Depression externalized. Not really, but sort of, in obscure tensor equations. Well I am dissatisfied, dissaffected somehow. Nothing's changed. I ran out of energy here. Nelson is a dead fucking end. I want to abandon it. The charm wore off. We subsist on the pale glow of Unstern.

I have no plans, no goals, except sleep. Until then, I'll drift. Wish I had more fog-generating inebrients, but I mainly just have cheap and blunt downers, they'll have to do. Blue sky at 3:42, viewed through brown blinds, in a dark bedroom while listening to trance. That's the happenstance.

The sky is beautiful. It's like an old friend. I feel such a personality from it. But I haven't gotten used to the white vista below. Apollo and the Ice-Queen. It's possible I fucked the skygod. But I forgot to personify her properly. But then, mixed metaphors are appropriate in those reveries. I could drink cough syrup right now, I'm that commited to being fucked up. The friendly fuck-up. My only friend.