The easiest self help? reading. But some people buy into things that make no sense. Cult mentality, everyone isolated from the rest of society to fulfull a dream.
Pop balloons full of confetti
turn yourself into a pinata
write poetry in dark corners
and watch reactions through colored lenses
but ever since eye surgery fans hurt
ridiculous costs for ankle check up
fine though as long as it is okay
call the girl at the library
make it with her
(I read weird stuff. It's not contemporary.)
Underground. That popular stuff. They don't need me.
They have enough readers.
(there's no dialogue in this book.)
There is a psychological lesson in all this I'm sure.
Some key viewpoint into human nature,
we can't quite see now
but will come into full clarity later
on a screen through a projector
your whole childhood neighborhood in attendance
(Everything reminds me of her this evening. So if I seem a little out of it. I'm sorry.)
the dog from down the street that wandered over
we fed her scraps of things, pet her and sent her back home
doubtless she stopped at other locations
more or less friendly
but it is okay, she was on retirement
living up the remaining months of her existence
somehow, intuitively, she knew when it was time to disappear
acting estranged from her normal patterns
it just didn't seem right
a winding clock
unwinding
the chalk on the ground connecting dots
arrows pointing towards neighbors houses
dumb games in the woods
when we should have been greatly injured
but we are fine we are fine we are fine
(cheating on girlfriends and what not)
Not I.
Power goes out we are left isolated and dead to the world
sudden isolation hurts the heart like a sudden tumor
malignant up to a point
talk of old girls
old haunts and ghostly apparitions of friends
brown hair and a warped memory
no glasses no blonde hair
light brown and a winning smile
thrift store sensibilities
heart ache
lean on me lean on me
lean on me lean on me
four times for me
six times for them
they were there ten minutes or so before I
coffee and ice cream sandwich
I could have changed the record
just ask and you shall receive
no one remembers me
but I act like I don't remember them
Why do I act like that?
Probably because they all do
and I've been contaminated.
At least a bit. A little bit of contamination goes a long way.
For me to be corrupted means immediate creative death.
But I can still love.
Unfortunate glares up stares where beautiful girls wander
towards camera lit bedrooms and closet rapists
one million hits online
your future down the drain
vomit and hair in a tangle
hunching over computer screen
with eyes to a future
but because I am undecided
drifting
I need not destroy myself to get the perfect education
of course I care about
what happens inside my brain
and how to optimize the performance
for efficient thinking and dreaming
creation and execution
I am a loner, a drifter, a wanderer
I must have the most fun possible
my last and final month
build callouses
make meaningless contacts
replace cotton balls with iron ones
courage in my stare
I had enough gusto to sit at the bar
at red robin and order three different beers
tall glasses
big tip
huskies lose
My account lost today.
Damage done.
same magnetism I was so afraid of
continues to draw me back
to same old trends
the beauty of a sad girl
who you know you can make happy
the pity of impossibility
I know I could be there
but I chose the pipe dream every time
I am predictably unpredictable
given a pipe dream
I will chase it.
I will chase my tail.
but this has promise of ultimate success
an incredible journey.
make a minor commitment to improve
the beer ruined my calorie counting
but I love her
I also fell in love with the girl in the coffee shop
my god she can sing
and the blonde I crashed into on palm walk
rather she crashed into me
out of her little text world
and into my arms
a jaded mindset
I used to give the benefit of the doubt all of the time
for these tan girls in shorts
very short
but more and more I automatically place them in a category
of trash
of useless and needless conversation
a new way to talk using a certain vocal chord rhythm
it is catching on like wild fire and must be stopped
how can I discontinue without involvement to begin with?
not an acute rhetorical question
it is all a game
and somehow someway I will understand what I do not today
given time I will see where I fucked up
and where I excelled
but now I am too deep. My heart guides my mind
my circadian rhythm guides my eyes
the devil guides my fingers.
Goodnight sweet angel
for most amateur writers begin their stories in the morning and end in the evening
so now I will leave you alone
at this juncture we probably should not be talking at all
but there is a house fire somewhere
consuming memories
photographs
bars bras brawls hockey
beer black bruises hotel
airplane shots
morning teleportation
and all in between the years
keep us separate.
we would end up hating each other.
for some reason we just did not get our fill given the time we had
we are insatiable
despite who you take home
you aggressive tiger
(no one cared for my story of virginity lost)
it was not relevant.
did not happen in the car we currently sat.
tried and tired again
gave up
gave in
enough.
