29 Oct 2008

too late, i found it

"if we let anybody in there, it wouldn't be a place"
- george carlin

Lamenting about limbo, and wanting to get back there. Lamenting about doing that. But never lamenting about being there. That's where it is, again. It sucks, that's why I love it. It's a black hole. Only problem is, I can escape. Not for lack of not trying. I spaghettify through the singularity. A queasy feeling of easy failure, a flavour that resonates with the tongue. I'm chewing cashews to eschew the taste of failure.

Four more times. You won't feel a thing. Almost there. Desperate, the desperation circuits, the neurons that must keep firing, after the brain is switched on, that switch, that silly switch, the stupid switch. Belief in free will. No choice in the matter. Justifying the inexorable decision. If it's a disease, then I'm sick. But I can hold it in. Keep it inside. Keep it in the Kosmic K Family. Taste the toxins, wear the toxins, cigarettes inside pimples, stallagmiting out of my torso as fully formed sores, ripe for the plucking. Tastes like chicken. Keep it warm, even when it's ice cold. Pretend it's warm. Cause it will be warm, again, for real, for a real eternal moment, a memory that still resonates, outside the laser grooves, outside the mind.

There's methods, there's Maher, there's cashews. There's not eschewing sentence case tonight. There's serious jesters screaming at me, from most angles, but by no means all.

Thinking about an afterparty I dragged myself to, solo, back when I couldn't talk to girls, back when I couldn't take pills, back when I could say no. Ended up somehow satisfied, alone again, in the dregs of the night, and my mind, a confluence of garbage, happy in a depressed sort of way, before I took pills to deal with that, before I'd had many bad relationships, as opposed to just one.

Wow, sure was a preamble. Well the preamble was ample. Cause now I'm staggering around the gardens, tumbling into the plants. Well, that's what happens when planes interact. Clumbsiness. I could caress those plants in my mind. I think I did. I just remembered. Maybe there was a point to it. But it's itch and delirium right now for some reason. Weird Sun. Colonel Cockblock tricked Major Mustard into accepting the position. Wow. Who'd have seen that? But from a certain angle, it's alright. And nevermind. Just go your own sweet way. Sway, with your hand frothing on the fountain's case. I've got tools for scaffolding that further. Well then. What what.

old time itches - i don't quite understand

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