Saturday, February 10, 2018
You want to see spirits? Spend 2 weeks drinking alcohol. Then stop. Do this for the 126th time and on the 127th one, give up and ride the storm out for last time. It is during that storm you get to see spirits. People miss the point with people who talk about their boozer daze. Believe it when we all understand completely the choices we made. It hurt a lot of people in ways as strange and tragic as anyone can imagine. So that is really a deal breaker kinda thing when somebody says, "well fuck dude, you chose to drink. what did you think was going to happen?" I mean, what is gained from what is known already? The individual experience, the humanity, and the knowledge that may one day prevent, by default, any such immediate reaction, anything so... standoffish and uncool, any message through any medium, taken seriously or not by anybody or not, from reaching its intended destination, whatever that may be, sent by whomever for whatever reason... it's a cosmic thing.
There can be no greater time spent than the time we spend alone with ourselves. To me, there is nothing better than, for example, the song above playing at just the perfect volume as I skate through sleeplessness again. I don't even know how to skate. Maybe that is why I am inclined enough in life to want to learn how to get through it better, faster, with more wind in my face and less mud on my shoes.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
Poem #234
Love is a manufactured Hell, a type of accepted insanity really that holds the possibility is actually true that one man and one woman can live together, make little humans, work, play, save money, vacation once a year, throw bang-up parties with good music and good food, take dance classes just because, manufacture a few arguments just to have killer make-up sex forever and ever until each and every orgasm pays each and every bill that comes inevitably each and every single month until the day they die... your damn right love is a manufactured Hell!
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