There isn’t a word I can say or write. My thoughts have no names and no presence in my mind though something is there when I think about your savoring kiss, because it does not stir single word or thought or emotion, it pulls the long string of events in my life that have been tied together out of order and shoved hastily behind the usual selfreplicating disorder of my mind. There lay my bare self, all the bits of me that I cut off to form a new self. Everything that i am, that i didn’t think i missed, I felt it again. everything That i ignored in the whole human of myself calling to you with joy like the first drink of water in months; though its cracked lips may burst under the weight of the glass and its unused throat burns to receive all it lacks, its appreciation is beyond eyes & smiles.
Obscenities: how calmly a human head splits in two. suddenly open, like the new born petals of a flower bud, waiting until their soft shell can no longer contain them. with a still swell they burst free and show the tips of their virgin fur to the sun. But our red silken flesh blooms from an outside force. one soft burst, and it flashes its brilliant dark scarlet to the sun, shares it beauty with the dust, heaves, and collapses. how soft in every way. a delicate lace statue now completely undone, its tightly knit weave and distinct knots now lie tangled, formless, given completely to impression of touch. it gives to any force, or lies open, blossomed to infinite possibility.
Vultures for vultures I guess. What is there left of trust now that I’m crossed this last time. To crawl for help…there was something else…Ice. Only Ice can flow now. I’m not given to the luxuries so many others are afforded. Only shame, duplicity, faulty fatalism.
All that I went through just to be who I want to be, I sacrificed my self worth, I lost my home, I gave up hope and was given this capricious destiny. and still its not over. All of this pain got me this far, and there is still farther to go. That is one road.
not where I belong. not where I will go. where I ask for help I am taken advantage of. Where I falter I am teased, for encouragement I do not know. where I seek healing I am struck. There is no solace, and there is no equal, but now all of that will end.
Perhaps this is how our kind are born, when pushed to the end of our hopes by the edge of failure and shame, and we finally are pierced, and the conceit infects us, freezes our fears. Ice is the only sane choice. The ice of the valiant keeps us far above the fear and shame, and when our desire arrives it becomes our only focus.
Ultimately it is as it has always been. The decision has changed, but choice is immutable. When this is known the ice flows, and we are born.
2012 is like an Idea I once held in my head, that I loved in its formulation and despised the second I wrote it down. I dream now about the feeling, not the idea.
2013 is a faulty foundation to build a house upon. It cannot be fixed, in a sense it isn’t broken, I just wish to have done it better. Regardless I must work with what I have.
These have been the best years of my life. I am very happy with potential I have displayed to myself, but I am also sober in the face of my current challenges.
the internet softens my mind. too much stimuli. running through the infinity of ideas glancing at words that hint to concepts but are unexplained and devoid of context; just hoping a string of words unrelated to its neighbors will stir an emotion without asking for too much attention.
everything is safe and harmless here.