[[i think this is important.]]
sometimes i realize that people shopped at loheman's before i existed and that people shot themselves in the face too. i wonder why those facts are so important to me, but they are. i make mixtapes and write love letters and i wonder who had my words before i did. i wonder if i stole them accidentally, or if the previous owner gave them back to the air and i snatched them from there.
there is something about possession, about owning, that is hard to explain. possession is sometimes how it is feels to love, or to have your heart broken. to give up possessing is inherently holy, but to know how to possess, to learn the best way to have, is just as good.
i think about creation and what it is, and how one can really create something that has been and will be again. and i wonder if signing your name on something concrete is enough sometimes to make it your own and sometimes i think it might be. and i want a baby, because i think they are the purest art.
i think about relationships a lot, because i am so afraid of them. i try to learn how to fold myself properly in the mind and the body of the people who i want to turn into one with. and sometimes learning hurts more than skinning your knees, but i know it's important.
i love malice, and i think about that too. i think about how sometimes i play dumb to my own cruelty just to see the reaction. i wonder if other people do that. malice is complicated. i don't mean malice in a truly, deeply, harmful way i mean it in a curious way, like sucking a little too hard on a sensitive spot to see the reaction. but sometimes it might not be that kinds of malice it might be the terrible kind. i better be careful of that.
nikki was right, i have trouble putting myself in people's shoes. mostly just the people i love. that is important too. i have been the victim of needless cruelty, of unintentional cruelty, and most of it because it's hard to make to feel a person's reaction to your action. i have never had a problem with empathy, i just need to concentrate sometimes.
and i think about the brain. the texture of it, what it must feel like between tense fingers, still teeming with it's electrical pulses. how all of me is in that flesh, and i wonder if i believe in a soul. it's hard for me to believe in it sometimes, because i want so badly to touch every conceivable part of myself, contact helps me learn and i am trying to learn about myself so i stop misusing and abusing myself. i wish those two words didn't rhyme. sometimes i think having a soul is so sexy, because i know all about it, and other people can't see it unless i show them. it's like a nipple piercing but it's less likely to become infected.
i was so sure a month ago that i had did nothing in the last year. but everything has come a little further, so i can see that it is really just a full circle. and i can see myself in the mirror and in my head and remember how i was and how i saw myself and i am older and better and little more patient. and i love myself more, and i can love you more, and i feel warm.
there is something about possession, about owning, that is hard to explain. possession is sometimes how it is feels to love, or to have your heart broken. to give up possessing is inherently holy, but to know how to possess, to learn the best way to have, is just as good.
i think about creation and what it is, and how one can really create something that has been and will be again. and i wonder if signing your name on something concrete is enough sometimes to make it your own and sometimes i think it might be. and i want a baby, because i think they are the purest art.
i think about relationships a lot, because i am so afraid of them. i try to learn how to fold myself properly in the mind and the body of the people who i want to turn into one with. and sometimes learning hurts more than skinning your knees, but i know it's important.
i love malice, and i think about that too. i think about how sometimes i play dumb to my own cruelty just to see the reaction. i wonder if other people do that. malice is complicated. i don't mean malice in a truly, deeply, harmful way i mean it in a curious way, like sucking a little too hard on a sensitive spot to see the reaction. but sometimes it might not be that kinds of malice it might be the terrible kind. i better be careful of that.
nikki was right, i have trouble putting myself in people's shoes. mostly just the people i love. that is important too. i have been the victim of needless cruelty, of unintentional cruelty, and most of it because it's hard to make to feel a person's reaction to your action. i have never had a problem with empathy, i just need to concentrate sometimes.
and i think about the brain. the texture of it, what it must feel like between tense fingers, still teeming with it's electrical pulses. how all of me is in that flesh, and i wonder if i believe in a soul. it's hard for me to believe in it sometimes, because i want so badly to touch every conceivable part of myself, contact helps me learn and i am trying to learn about myself so i stop misusing and abusing myself. i wish those two words didn't rhyme. sometimes i think having a soul is so sexy, because i know all about it, and other people can't see it unless i show them. it's like a nipple piercing but it's less likely to become infected.
i was so sure a month ago that i had did nothing in the last year. but everything has come a little further, so i can see that it is really just a full circle. and i can see myself in the mirror and in my head and remember how i was and how i saw myself and i am older and better and little more patient. and i love myself more, and i can love you more, and i feel warm.