Lo! we cursed by the pen
Is it relief that you seek?
Are your hands weary?
the pen feel like a iron?
Here’s another weary soul
who seeks the tender comfort
of the voices in the void.
The void can be warm to you
as long as you don’t look her in the face.
She’ll be kind to you and
She’ll reveal her secrets
that nobody knew
-that everybody knows
-that’s too scary to believe
and is the source of
all the good words put together
in a decent sentence.
Am I the only one who needs to twist my dick upside down
in order to not piss on my shoes
or am I the only one who’s fucked up?
Am I the only one who thinks
about camping but
never does it?
Am I the only who can’t stand
my apartment
but is too afraid to get rid of it?
Am I the only one who takes two hours
to drink a pint
but 2 minutes to slurp down a mixed drink?
Am I the only one who can’t live without
people but still thinks everyone is
a fucking moron?
Am I the only one who give zero fucks what
anyone else thinks but still find pleasure
if strangers like me?
Am I the only one who rather starve
than go to the gym?
Am I the only one who enjoys cold dreary
nights
instead of sunshine?
I’m not but I felt like the question should be asked, just in case.
I’m up to my ear with my own bullshit.
I feel a kinship to people born in the 1880s because they were mostly dead when I was born, just about. It fucks with my brain thinking of the 1920s because that was also a hundred years ago.
What’s changed? People certainly haven’t. At the cusp of another world war… and the trenches are back. There are a lot of troubles in the world and that make sense. Peace cannot go on forever. Humanity need at least one great fuck up every century or so, otherwise their can’t be growth.
Growth’s what’s important. I sometimes wonder if they’ll look at the 1900s like they did antiquity during the renaissance. All the greatest works of art was made then, everything else is just an imitation of it.
We need a great war to reset our brains, to create new stuff.
The centuries don’t mirror each other, of course, but it’s damn close. I’ll be an old fart when they look back at the 20th century like a golden age and I was born too early to join the great war and born too late to reap the benefits of it.
I will certainly be a nag, when that happens; analog was better.
My values will be antiquated but as long as I’m alive, the things I care about will be on life support.
Time makes everything different and that’s why, once in a while, humanity enjoys a rerun, every hundred years or so.
Ideas are like floods, unrelenting
you can’t get out of them
no matter how hard you try
A stream of thoughts, on the other hand
is easier.
And feelings… they need to come out violently
like vomit on a page.
that’s how it’s supposed to be.
the sickness is always
more
powerful than
the thought.
and they don’t care
Dogs might find it endearing or take it as a challenge
like a human would
If it’s a woman they’d think you’re creepy
But birds don’t care
they let us watch them
observe them
Not everyone
is sinister
some of us just like
to watch
look at the curves
the smiles
the frowns
or a sideways glance
In books I learn
In writing I disappear…
I wonder why I feel the
need to disappear in the first place?
why is existing so terrible?
Perhaps it’s dull?
or maybe because we
feel the need to strive, to fight, to create?
I didn’t have any expectations
growing up
Though, there were
a lot of promises
made
I find that children are the best
escape artists
because they disappear
all the time
even though they
are the ones that see the world
through an explorers eyes
perhaps living has always been
dull?
Look around the corner,
What could it be?
that’s interesting,
not what it actually is
We got tired of that shit at age 3
and society is obsessed with health
survival at any cost
What’s so frightening about dying?
We don’t know
but the Christians do
but they are scared anyhow
they broke a rule and
now they don’t think they’ll
make it
they fucked up.
Catholics have it easy, though
they just have to be sorry
and pay the priest
and they’re good
But the church has to be more lenient
because they’re at war
or whatever
Most religions say you have to
be a good boy
love people
and whatnot
and love yourself
I can agree with that
if you love yourself
you haven’t done anything bad
Despite what anyone else say
I find it funny that Christians banned
suicide at some point
probably because
people were killing themselves
left and right
when they thought they had
ticket to heaven
Why wait?
Why risk it?
I buy stuff from them a lot
and
they know me by name
I haven’t asked for theirs.
They’re not particularly beautiful
but they know me
which is more than I can say about
most women.
I purchase poetry
and they probably think I’m
that kind of guy
maybe I am.
What is a person that read poetry?
let alone one who writes it?
Two bookstore chicks
they think they know me
I order stuff they don’t have
I only read the rarest of tomes
you see
like a true artist, eh?
Two bookstore chicks
Do I want them?
No
Do they want me?
I dunno
probably not
A chat doesn’t hurt
just to dispel
my ego.
Empty beer glasses
and bottles
are my price
It’s my scoreboard
and I feel good looking at them
proud even
because awhile ago,
I didn’t drink beer
(at all)
So don’t take them away
dear waiter
don’t take away my self respect
My proof
that I’m one of you guys now
the drinkers
and I get it now
I truly do.
Without dying a little
And whatever we touch we corrupt.
Habits kill the soul
And nothing stays the same
The past doesn’t matter
And the future is a heap of shit
The memories keep us grounded
And we constantly have to find
new reasons to live.
The Horrors of Writing 