(no subject)
I feel itching on the inside of my body. A grinding that drives the force of time. The movement. It is like I never feel satified with things as they are. Need to add or subtract. (It is not like I never feel happy, but I am only describing a certain level which I have been frequenting) So I mill around trying to distract myself. And sometimes it works. But I dont want to set up an environment with deep craters in it and then have my happiness be based on the relief of filling those holes. They become to burdening to feed, and I am not sure how much they even satisfy me anymore. It is like there is steam inside your body (this is the energy and feeling of being alive) , and you want to get rid of it because it is hot and very intense, but the channels that you have are mostly blocked, and the ones that arent require too much attention, so you create new, quicker ones to be relieved. You pour it into the mudane, into people, into cigarrettes. But if we refuse to let it disperse, if we just hold onto it, then the pressure will become so high that it will burst and clear out the other tunnels of art and creativity and sexuality and music, and dreaming, and all the other tools we are gifted with but require discipline. Can you hear me whistling as the steam rushes through those tiny holes, higher and higher. I think everyone just wants to explode. It sounds like the best feeling in the world.