feeling - feeling okay - not groovy really, really... but feeling... okay
feeling okay with feeling - and sort of wanting to express, whatever - distant -- luc wasn't really saying anything, just talking about the keyboard - those kids were fast as lightning -- so i was multitasking
there's no need to be profound, feeling suffices - praise is too much - or enough i suppose - the verbal part - fragments are okay - cigarettes are a nice spice, export a rollies - luc gets algebra but not arithmetic - mechanical reasoning, he's good at that - gearhead - i heard it somewhere
sandworms - itchiness is salvation - comforts of a woman would be nice, even an aloof feminine form - just a sweet voice, whatever the texture - last night i made it to the north pole -- that's not a metaphor, i went on an arctic expedition with some of my friends, rose was there with a parka - we reached the pole, it was a short metal stake at the magnetic locus, or whatever. Vague satisfaction. We ventured back to camp in the tundra during a blizzard. We set up a croquet course inside the big tent, but someone got pissed off at us for driving wickets through the tent floor. It was a dream, but I quite firmly believed in it.
fidel is absorbed in cartoons, but at least it's the knowledge network, and there's no nasty-ass commercials
good for marco, bailing - pretty lady with fairy wings fallen asleep on the rocks - i was kinda like smitten, i wanted to rake her up, but i was pretty much woah, uh heh heh, um... you're broken - she was right in the sun, too
the breeze is cool - i see and feel beauty between yawning chasms of spiritual death, i question the goodness in everything as soon as i discover it, but at least i write it down before i weep at the hollowness - i just want to express, i don't want any reward, i don't deserve anything - except maybe health, sanity, that would be a nice change, really - to put it perfectly: i'm overdosed on earnestness and honestness and most desperately need to be distanced and slick and sly and keeping a certain earned vice of cynicism, or nothing even as lofty as that, just being bitchy and having my niche
haesel eyes - play it by ear - the trick is, it's more like showing a dog a card trick, i'm so not here mentally - beigie bland hair color, eye color - maybe my eyes ARE cool - my god, this is like, so cool - in case there's any question, i'm rambling, drifting - i don't look in peoples eyes as a matter of habit, not that i'm opposed to it - it just doesn't happen very often
i love your magic act, it's very charming - he's getting grizzled, paying the price, showing me his magic act, coin tricks
i have a desperate fear and sadness in me, but i'm counting my blessings - moments like these never last, but even so, there are things to enjoy in this - maybe just for today, i'll take a break from taking upon myself the burden of cleanliness - hopelessness gets tiring, maybe i can hope for just a good itch today - which is okay - heavy things are happening - that's no metaphor, my best friend laid some HEAVY shit on me, which i can't go into - in any case, we're hanging out with his kid and talking about genetics - i wondered how i would feel, react, if i was ever faced with something like that - well, it churned out somehow, it was profound, and scary and real and warped and dreamy, but then we thought of other things to think about
the breeze is all i can enjoy, all i care about, and it's forgiving, comforting
it gets bad, when i want to annihilate all traces of self - it's guilt, self-inflicted pain - the contrails theory tangent -- me and luc talking about the paranoid hippies - we've taken care of responsibilities - fed his kid - and he's happy, god bless him
i hope papa gets some sleep
No comments:
Post a Comment