still lives.

the bus stop
the coffee shop
the thinking spot

who are you and what am i?

or are they the same?
you dare complain about this life-bound game
we've been forced to play, to stay
and toil among the grounds
of us to spray back to be eaten
and again to bring us back to life,
with life..
I feel I'm quite driven insane...
to regain the fame
of my own vanity
is quite a skill.

the teacher and the master.

apprehensive that they will see through my lie, through the facade..

I'm done with playing teacher. As a student I feel uncertain.. who am I? where do i stand?
I want to be above, up up and away beyond the grinding certainty of mortality, the reliability of life and death..

but are those that i so deny myself.. are they what it is? of what it's for?

Or is it my judgement that decides the difference between when I should be one or the other.. is it about flexibility?

I have the strength, I have the courage, I just can't live up to my name. Wisdom.
It's not wisdom you need, nor knowledge, is it?
It feels like what I need is intuition. Or a quiet brain. same thing.

what is The One and what is it for?

it's when you see sunlight in someone's eyes.

A doctor's note: Sometimes when you smoke,

weed brings you down to a lower tempo. You running on slow low vibrations. But if your mind is running just too fast and won't let the weed relax them, sometimes it just call to attention the wandering of the mind. The slower the bud gets you, the more thoughts you feel like you're having. Can bring anxiety.

evolution

hair blowing in the wind like palm fronds

wind blowing all the colors around me



The wind blew fiercely, stirring up the colors of the world into broad brushstrokes of tree and car and sky and sidewalk.

blowing around the colors of the world into


throwing around color

as the wind blew all the colors around me into a kaleidoscopic frenzy of tree and sky and sidewalk.


as the wind blew around me like kaleidoscopic frenzy, life imitated art, which imitated life

the world turned into a kaleidoscopic frenzy





The palms tossed their fronds in the fanning night winds


The wind blew fiercely, stirring up the colors of the world into broad brushstrokes of tree and car and sidewalk. it swirled around her in a kaleidoscopic frenzy, leaving her blurry with indecision and distrust.

sunspots

its shining on me in little spots that cover my whole body and make me feel so weightless like they can lift me up to touch me on the dapple of sun that blankets the velvet green.

if only I could pray to someone to tell them what I've seen out there, the terrors that lurk in between the edges of the world, but the sun sweeps them away to corners and shines on, shine on
if only I could say to someone of what lives out there, the reality of what lies beyond the sheen of contentment, the dream of intent-less floating through the seams beyond, beyond

re re re re reverse

there's just some ridiculous person in my mind telling me when to go and what to say and how to do.

i feel like I'm unraveling like a bowl of spaghetti into the mouth of scott conant- i don't have the bite or the firmness required right now, and the resolve is limper than a dead dog's dick. my mind is running in loops and pacing crazily to a staggering, leaping, drunken finish with plenty of bravado. my mind is a circus clown. my mind is a feeding frenzy. my mind is a wasteland of an electric carnival in the searing heat of day. breathing water into your lungs, deluged in confusion and unnecessary emotions that are slowly recognized and coughed out in curt spats.

too high to edit.

a jackhammer starts pecking away at the back of your head, as a power saw buzzes away in fright. crickets chirp deep into an ink black sky that swallows to feed them back to you in a deafening sea of sound. you see the nodules radiating like little suns that shimmer as you sink gently into the jelly bed of the auditory ooze in your mind.



you jolt upright and you feel a cement egg being cracked on your head, the whites clinging to the nerves of your skin as the yolk slowly poisons you from the inside- frying through your mind and blinding your eyes, squeezing out of your face to slither agonizingly through your torso and drip down your legs, where it all met in a puddle at your feet.

god's dream 2.16g

once somebody told me I had no rhythm and no flow. it was a fellow artist.

i haven't been doing anything musical since then.


i dunno about you but i love jilted rhythms. i don't want it to get too singsongy. there's always an edge to the cloud.









i sat. i sat and i squinted around the room in my desperate haze, the saccharine faces of the people around me glinting through my pipe dream. Was this what I was to come to, I wondered. Were these the people I thought like? No.. it was one mistake....




Which way do I go? Where am I supposed to be? How do I get there? Will I change the world? Will I matter? Will I be remembered? Will I be loved?


I'm scared of the dark because I'm scared I see myself... and I do see myself...
Don't be afraid of her. She is you and you are her and we are just us looking at ourselves in the ocean. We ripple with the water.