---
Let them know we've been here. Record. Write it down. Put it on paper or video or recording. Putting self into perspective. There is bread there is wine. Two dry kegs. Watching people laugh and fondle outside. Some I recognize. Most I don't. Majority I will never see again. Even in that minority of those I will see again, I bet we won't interact. Minimal eye contact. Brief flash of recognition. And then oblivion. Because I am leaving. (the tight bass lines destroyed). Let them know I was here! Holy hell. Nobody ever settles for much less.
When I bench press, the bar stays in place, I push the entire world down a foot and a half or so.
Smoke weed to forget how to eat healthy.
Eat healthy and forget how to smoke weed.
(you are just a litany of horrors like the evening news)
I like to grow.
****
Fingernails got filthy. I climbed on a dirt hill and used my hand like a visor to block out the harsh light of car head lamps. Move everything. The sticky floor. The alcohol. (I'll be right back she said and I waited.) Rude prior to show, incredibly nice after performance. Walk three girls back. But they found a ride. Safety first. Could have made some new friends. Perhaps if I were alone. Hoofing it back to my place with intentions of leading a posse back for hookah and conversation. Louder the drunker we get. Beer in the fridge and we can escape into the rhythm of ocean waves. No one knows what the sea smells like here.
No one can tell if it is high or low tide, given the proximal range of the moon. The dark side of it always dark. Going the distance.
Shoot for the stars. Land on the stars. The moon is not enough anymore.
***
Break strict rules. Strung out burned out in a fury. Nearly lost my cool earlier in the hot sun. Dropped a grocery bag in 103 heat, melting tires. No natural shade. Only buildings. Smokestacks. The girls who had fun and wonder about their damaged reputations only months later. Lightning strikes the hilltop picnic. Looking more and more likely. Watch the movie. Play the part. "You've missed the fucking point"
I love that dissonance. Holy discovery. But the limit is nowhere to be found. You have time yet to become marvelous. A figment of a sweet girls imagination. The one that could only possibly be a figment in mine own. The stitches sewn together with invisible wires. Electricity powers the city through every minute of earth day and no huge changes take place (somehow I was completely unaware. probably threw something recyclable aware and left a toothbrush plugged in to the wall).
How can the predictable be comfortable? To live in a repetitive cycle day in day out. Boring. Incredibly boring to behave in the same manner through every second. Every unique moment wasted. You waste away impression management. Count your breaths. Your heart will slow to a murmur. You will outlive me.
(there are always dead ends)
opportunity for greatness, rise up the challenge, you spineless wreck of a person. squirm beneath a large imperfection of a body, something untamed, uncontrolled... a growth on the side of building. Of painted light fixtures. we melt into shadows on the sidewalk. hands clasped behind our heads. given in to the temptation of servitude to gravity and laws governing the physical world.
who says you couldn't constantly float two or three feet above the ground?
but we buy into the books. words without meaning to an illiterate. the hierarchy will be in place until all those interested in creating books disappear and everything good becomes a classic. there are no new inventions. the well of human creation can never be dried. the riverbed will remain damp at least. the keg cannot be tapped. inventiveness and real opinions are lilies bursting through sheets of ice. we could let the beer go stale. the river could overflow and harm fragile ecosystems.
laughter from down the corridor but it is brought on through illegitimate means. the sound of betrayal as the ice cream melts in the back of the suburban, I am ridiculed for my health aware decisions and left as a cliche in the computer lab. swearing and muttering. a sauna in there. hot tub fiends....
pyro novelties.
a strange night for a curse. uttered across the moors. the dark and narrow passageways between weeping trees. sad at the lost cultures. the tribes across the landscape. we work at different paces truly. everything is different and horrifying. we resent each other now and again through passive aggressive means. power shift. in control. want to reel me in. content to sit alone in respective rooms. useless enough to mute.
