Archive for October 2009
Paper casualties, bent furs on my straight jacket,
Dipping the lady you savor this moment,
Eye contact is young, you have em’ you own em’.
Laugh at what’s faltered cuz it’s so fucking worth it,
Lincoln’s crossed at the knees, buckled by humor,
Cripple my emotions, big man with power,
Extinguish my foot fires; a sudden leap to satisfaction.
Stretched syllables prove overrated, simple is sweet,
Take me deeper, I long to go further,
Along for the obstacles, happiness be my bride.
Husband I suppose.
Confusion opens doors that aren’t even there yet,
Cautioning frequent stops, I’m stressing over nothing.
Pavement under pressure, concrete pays the ultimate price,
Leave behind a winding trail of kerosene snowflakes,
Gripping this pattern from the outside-in.
I need to relax, need to expand my casual grin,
Just disappear from the world and take a bath in loose skin.
My feet feel like tiny toddlers are living in the nails of my toes….they just keep shakin’ their rattles, and with every one of those shakes, my feet will twitch in response….I love it….it’s like when the doctor whacks you in the knee with that triangle shaped thing, and you sit there and giggle silently to yerself cuz hey!, you suddenly have no control over yer leg anymore….ahahaha!….awesome awesomeness….
My legs don’t feel quite as tingly as my feet, but they’re sure as hell tryin’….seriously, like a huge tingly sensation knots in one place inside my calf and it feels like its gonna go allllll the way up, but then it just stops….it’s craaaaazy….
My fingers like co-ordinate with my ears somehow….because I’ll sit here and find myself typing along with the drum parts of songs in my headphones….its hard to keep up with some….for example, I have “Live Forever” by the Oasis playing right now, and I’m ‘typing’ to the cymbal in the foreground of the song….every letter = one strike of the cymbal….it’s actually really hard….
My skin feels like there are millions and millions of ants doing push ups simultaneously underneath it….an army of them….just all lined up directly under my skin….with different ‘pushup-timings’ so it gives me an ocean wave pattern of feeling in my upper arms….omg, “Pattern Of Feeling”….awesome band name….
My brain….o man my brain….haha….so far up in the clouds right now, it’s incredible….shit, I’m LIVIN’ in the clouds right now….reality is not for me….people say that I should come down, that the clouds are not a place to be….I smile at them….maybe one day, I say maybe one day I will come down….but I never will….reality is not for me….I shall stay up here….the view is quite breathtaking.
I’m just telling you how it is….but it’s weird cuz I know yer not experiencing this experience from my perspective….it’s that feeling you get when you feel yer gonna feel a feeling you’ve never felt before….but yet I can’t explain it….I can’t explain ‘my perspective’….one of the unexplainables in life….like some of the shit people find funny….they don’t know how or why it’s funny, but it just is….
There’s a light show going down in my head right now….little neon aliens are up there, I fucking know it….camping out behind my left pupil, they see what I see….sucks for them though cuz I used to see my surroundings in pixels….but that was like an hour ago….now I just see colorless bubbles….like portions of achromatic clocks stuck in these tiny soap bubbles outlining my brain….or what’s left of it anyways….haha….
I was lying on my side earlier and for some strange reason my eyes started burning, so in turn they began to water….there was a tear that got stuck on the bridge of my nose….it was so fascinating to me cuz whenever I looked down at it, i could see the reflection of my eyes staring back at me within it….((I can only imagine what the onlooker looking in must have been thinking….cuz of course in order to look at yer nose, you gotta go cross-eyed….so there I was on the couch, cross-eyed giggling to myself….hahaha!))….but then it eventually rolled away….
Shadows are orgasmic at this stage….orgasmic shadows….jesus, I’m fried….however, I must admit….this trip just keeps getting better and better….virtual reality without the expensive hardware….
Inspiration is a whore, a classy one at that….she’ll give you what you want, but’ll take nothing less than two Jacksons and a fresh bottle of Malibu for payment….I met her on a cold metal park bench three years back….she was preceding to cut a soggy piece of Big Red in half with the handle edge of a butter knife….”Why so complex?” I asked her, puzzled and perplexed from all her unnecassary struggling….she ceased her cutting and looked through me with a pair of black and droopy eyes I had never seen before….”Fuck simplicity,” she whispered, as she quickly stuffed her belongings into a small brown sack and took off northbound for the subway….I never saw her again….
Penetrating passion through poised paralysis, I weave my ways….the darkened barrels of chocolate horses crusade their ‘neighs’….I love rhyming even though that one was quite pathetic….fingertipping the vowels and fist pumping the consonants….sex with words….but not vice versa….
But now they’re in my head and it’s bugging me….the fuck did they get in there anyways, and when are they gonna leave?….hopefully the table was set….and the forks weren’t sporks….nasty sporks, I fucking hate those things….
Offset syringes breed half-empty shelves of tapioca pudding….my wheelchair’s ascending the onramp now, decorated in pink glass and dipped in caramel….I have yet to second guess myself on these expeditions….I trek through mountains of loaded memories and caves of deep confusion….but I never misspell and I never stop….
Another wave is sneaking up on me….I can feel it….but I don’t know….I don’t know if I’m ready yet….but fuck it; I am….I always am….
Her eyes dance with passion, crosswords in the rain,
Shifting her body, it’s all just the same,
In out goes the water, it’s beginning to flood,
She tugs at her drawstring and pulls down her hood.
This feeling’s unforgiving, the pain she indures,
Secrets are just whispers, she wants so much more,
Trapped in a timeframe, a watch all alone,
To love is to freefall, and freefall she won’t.
Sooo, me and Bruh and Sis just stopped at 7-11 and got M&M’s and fuckin’ Slurpees. The car is full of Slurpees. There’s seriously like 6 of them in the cupholders. Dude if we get pulled over, we’re so fucked. I can see it now.
Cop – (real suspicious) “Why the hell are there so many Slurpees in here?”
Me – (Roll down my window from the backseat, eyes red as shit, and yell in a fast and loud tone) “I needa refill without refillin’!”
Cop – “Ma’am get out of the car.”
Me – (soft and guilty) “K.”