(no subject)
How many times have I been here before? Typing and typing away at this board. These keys. the same keys, the I hate him keys, the what is happening keys. The where am I what am I doing, where am I going keys? Always the same, a sequence of words, stringing, always strining along. My mind doesnt work as well with a pen in had, the keys spell things out so perfectly, clearly, as if they were already written. My mind races, and nothing comes out clear, then again nothing is ever thought out clear. Fragments of stories and memories and life as we see it in this moment exactly, collide into these strings, these keys, always these strings of keys. I think I've said this before. Where are you, are you there? I can't see you, there is fog in my mind, a memory from when I was eight years old. That must be why I can't see you, your on the other side, other side of the fog. I can hardly run fast enough through it to get to you. A dream I once had, running underwater. They are all colliding in my mind as these words pour out of me. These combinations of memory and thought and the present, why these ones? Why can't sunshine collide with daisys and you on my arm last spring? Why must the water and the fog and the distance come together. So far away now I've given up running, the pages are dripping, the acid melts the walls and they tumble to the floor, if it was you on the other side of these walls I would have disolved through them, through the acid to get to you. But you are he and he is you and you are not they and that is true. Where these corridors lead me I'll never know, but follow follow follow them always, strung along with keys and locks and the board, this same board. The game is tiring but I follow it still. Your voice echos in the clouds above, a god a gasp and I follow still. I could say the words that crings on the tip of my toung, hate, longing, lusting, for your broad, strong, lifeless, limp body, laying empty and burried under blankets, quiet and quaint. I can string nothing together for you, nothing comes to the keys when my mind sees that rainbow over the falls, the orchards blossoming and the mist clears, I thought it was you but I see now who I never saught before. You aren't he and he is they and you are we and we don't like it. Im tumbling through these thoughts falling contantly, never stopping, my mind races, cathcing up is hard to do, so hard, hard but I would do it for you. Gone and the fog returns for a long night settles in past the moonlit sky and the porches and the kisses and you waiting outside for me, outside the washroom where I flushed away all doubts, happy birthday I bid you a happy birthday number one. Champion bear in my dreams always. Goodnight keys and board and strings. Goodnight.