The Sock-Monkey As Alone

The rest is silence: or, my adventures in the united states of relative freedom. 1 All across the midnight sky, fireworks bloom like sprinkles on a cupcake. A cobweb on the chandelier and the neon sprinklers weren't alone; the anarchist airship the royal Marie Antoinette was its northern star. Leisurely with engine's cut, drifting those July wind's, that were alway's nostalgic. Its captain and her ladies-hands held-leaning over the bow. Eye's speckled with the duck tape light of the city below, in all it's modern power a speckled piece of coral. It wasn't an independence day. And the skyscrapers and slums were empty from the skies. Nuclear in her mind, however, was that slow descending bomb, the winds didn't disturb it, parachuting down with its blades slowing its descent through the sky. It was a dreamy kind of fall that forced meditation like a campfire. She remembered watching the propeller blade's fall from the trees a ...

1 Where we see the status inside of a prior scope. Nowhere but bright light burning from a former hope. 2 Madness, thighs, and lips, object or human being. Cold sweat retort, tung slip from where fingers cling. 3 Don't touch my mistake. The cup is full to the brim. Just another dead man, hiding behind his skin.

I breathe,   and like everyone else I am closer to death. Five hours in the hospital   my mother's back hurting from waiting with me. My problem is on some level    I want to die, even if I am scared of it.  So what does it mean: I have a broken heart. That these sorta dreams really do come true. Or is as simple as I am afraid     and control makes me safe. I have a broken heart,    but it was before my medical care. I have a broken heart    and I am more sad than scared.

"I have to go somewhere and I don't think I can come back." - driver "I get what I deserve... but being old and alone doesn't sound fun. So I guess we are at a crossroads." He was talking to his reflection. the lines of middle age and scars that bleed easy. The broken dreams that hope left him years ago. "I fucked more women that I didn't care about. then I care to remember." What are you trying to talk yourself into? He picks up the phone and cancels on a date. then sits in the dark with music playing. One of his early bands      back when         he thought he had something to offer           the world. "in Japan, they hold funerals for dolls   with monks praying...    before they can throw them away." He sips his beer. "It's almost like I was never here."

  “Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living.” - Osa Driven by vengeance Centerless without dichotomies. Life is without direction, dualism creates conflict. life and death is waking dreams of labored breathing. Yet old age in all of its frustration. is the grace  of opportunity to say...not just yet. with a cingular conceit... for whom the flowers grow.   

“The mind is the shadow of the light it seeks.”                                  - Jim Dodge   "Man is nothing like God; not only are our powers limited, but sometimes we are forced to become the Devil himself." - Nicholas D. Wolfwood the pitiful attempts   energy drinks and cigarettes     memories of four loco in Florida I am not in my right mind anymore. Remembering my voice shout       "If I was you I would knock me the fuck out."   and my friend's voice "turn your head sideways."         The impact a small bruise for me            and a cracked knuckle for him Or, a lifetime, finite poetry.  A lifetime of being... ...of collapsing into ellipsis... of being told my confidence is founded on the delusion of violent outburst...

“The mind is the shadow of the light it seeks.”                                  - Jim Dodge   the pitiful attempts by me at asserting my masculinity   energy drinks and cigarettes I am not in my right mind anymore. Or, a lifetime, finite poetry.  A lifetime of being... ...of collapsing into ellipsis... of being told my confidence is founded on the delusion of violent outbursts that threaten the progress         of music. hearing harmony when there is none and confusing dissonance                         with carrying a tune of thought spirals    looping      vainly        for my attention I don't know what I am thinking   What I am writing   ...