The Color Of Hunger

Posts Tagged ‘inspiration

I’m not sure why I called in the first place. You never pick up anyways.

I wish I could have x-ray vision. But for feelings. Then I wouldn’t hafta guess anymore. I’d actually fall asleep within ten minutes of hitting the pillow. I’d actually know what to expect in return when my mind gets to those clingy and obsessed stages. Fuck I hate those stages. I never had those stages before you came into my life. I actually hafta make myself not want you, or else yer all I think about.

I feel like I’m following Hansel and Gretel. But you’ve got all the clocks in the world on pause and an unlimited supply of bread crumbs. I’ll get to a curve in the path sometimes and loose track of the trail. He’ll come back for me, I tell myself, emotions shaky, confidence shakier. (The broken is the beautiful, right love?) But you never do. I’m left to find my bearings all alone in these creepy woods. The trees are always laced with unfulfilled needs and wants. The forest constantly reeks. Strong whiffs of could-have-been’s and I-wishes get trapped in the linings of my nostrils, even when I come across the crumbs again.

My need’s dominating my want tonight. That’s never good. Potential danger is no stranger when the need overrides the want. Shit gets ugly, attachments grow stale, and most of all, desire becomes a deceiving enemy. I find myself in an epic battle with that word. Not a bloody one, just a simple scuffle. A Looney Tunes chase, per say, where nobody gets hurt and everybody goes back to normal at the end. Me versus Desire. But not vice versa.

Just give me a compass of yer sensitive side. Please? I know you have one, I’ve seen it. I crave the man I used to spend endless hours on the phone with. Not just for a quick fuck either. There was meaning behind the words we exchanged. At least I thought there was. Or am I just lost in those woods again?

When I search for yer bread crumbs, I search everywhere. Sometimes for days. Being lost is no fun, especially in those woods. I’ll get to that breaking point where nothing seems to matter much anymore and giving up is inevitable. The wildlife are protagonists, I’ve learned. They wipe my tears away with gentle paws and tilt my head up so I have no choice but to connect watery blue pupils with them. Lacking the ability to speak with their mouths, they use their eyes.

It’s amazing how silent love can be. An infinite language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see. So powerful, so distinct. I sit there for what seems like forever, locking irises with these creatures of inspiration. Until finally, they’ll bat an eyelash and force me to break my gaze. Slowly, without missing a beat, they point in unison at a tiny piece of bread underneath a fresh pile of leaves. I must have overlooked this spot before, must have walked right past it. Then they disappear among the masses of trees before I can even thank them.

I dust my knees off quickly with both hands and recover from where I left off. I suppose you’ve forgotten about me by now though. It’s been too long, I don’t blame you. And I’m sure you don’t either. But yet I continue following this twisted path. I can’t help it. I’m stuck on this endless journey of undeniable lust and blind reactions. Why won’t you come back for me? I’m so sick of following. Be by my side this time, I need a hand. A man’s hand. My man’s hand.

When people laugh and ask me what I see in you, I simply tell them “everything you don’t.” I never lack courage here, and why would I? By loving me, yer teaching me how to love myself. Love is life, and if you miss love, you miss life. And I guess it’s so incredible to me because I’ve never felt it this strongly before. I’m high without smoke, without pills. Everything I do is so enhanced and brighter with you on my mind. It sounds so fucking cliche, too. But it’s….true? Yea, true.

So this is my life. And I just want you to know that I am both happy and sad, but I’m still trying to figure out how that can be.

I smell feelings….and I feel color….slingshots of ammonia launch airborne crashing violently into flaming cupcakes….I think god’s in the fan blade and can’t get out….somebody oughta help him….nearing blue escalades as they tiptoe down steep stagments in time, I’m left to wonder; who dimmed the lights and where are all the goddamn blankets?

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….

Spokane, WA. 26 years young. Aquarius, of course. I am a very optimistic individual driven by passion and creativity. Music is my inspiration to everything. I dig the nightlife. I enjoy discovering new craft beers and breweries. I like animals more than humans. The ocean is amazing. I have no idea what I wanna do with my life and prolly never will. But I'm going to succeed because I'm crazy enough to think I can.
August 2019
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