(no subject)
It's 12.24 AM, just barely a Thursday near the middle of September. For now, the weather seems to be cooperating, a perfect 64 degrees fahrenheit for me as I sit outside underneath the artificial orange glow of a street lamp in my underwear. The Los Angeles sounds are distant and droning; the diminished sounds of the rush of traffic as well as the hum from the lamps and televisions on mute are easily thrown into the background by the chirps of a cricket orchestra. The environment is perfect except it's about three hours earlier than I'd prefer. That's about the only thing perfect right now.
I don't have any idea what I'm doing or where I'm headed.
My fingers move in repeated patterns over and over again. It's this absolutely absurd dance that I'm desperately trying to break free of. Circling around, hoping that on accident I'll end up breaking earth but instead it's just the same old chord, masturbating to a completely anticlimactic climax in mere seconds that only leaves you feeling disgusted with yourself afterward.
I want to be alone.
Just drink more fluids, you'll be fine. It's a rare condition, mostly happens in young men going off to the army. If you think about it makes sense. When you stand up your blood pressure should increase to pump more blood to your brain. But for you, it's attention and instead of standing up you're on the floor. Just drink more fluids, you'll be fine. Oh and try laying off on the grass.
I don't like the present.
It finally happened the other day. The day that nature died. I made sure to plant one seed in the corner of my room and sure enough it grew into the most marvelous tree I had ever laid my eyes on. It grew right out of the floor of my room; broke right through the carpet. And I put my heart and soul into this tree; I cared for it so dearly. Watering it day after day with my own blood, trimming its leaves, and sleeping beside it. I loved it so much. And I became a part of nature and nature became a part of me. That was true until it's leaves began to wilt and the roots inside me began to lose their hold. The city had won against nature and my beloved tree was now just an ugly stucco pillar in my room. My heart's a cinder block.
I don't have any idea what I'm doing or where I'm headed.
My fingers move in repeated patterns over and over again. It's this absolutely absurd dance that I'm desperately trying to break free of. Circling around, hoping that on accident I'll end up breaking earth but instead it's just the same old chord, masturbating to a completely anticlimactic climax in mere seconds that only leaves you feeling disgusted with yourself afterward.
I want to be alone.
Just drink more fluids, you'll be fine. It's a rare condition, mostly happens in young men going off to the army. If you think about it makes sense. When you stand up your blood pressure should increase to pump more blood to your brain. But for you, it's attention and instead of standing up you're on the floor. Just drink more fluids, you'll be fine. Oh and try laying off on the grass.
I don't like the present.
It finally happened the other day. The day that nature died. I made sure to plant one seed in the corner of my room and sure enough it grew into the most marvelous tree I had ever laid my eyes on. It grew right out of the floor of my room; broke right through the carpet. And I put my heart and soul into this tree; I cared for it so dearly. Watering it day after day with my own blood, trimming its leaves, and sleeping beside it. I loved it so much. And I became a part of nature and nature became a part of me. That was true until it's leaves began to wilt and the roots inside me began to lose their hold. The city had won against nature and my beloved tree was now just an ugly stucco pillar in my room. My heart's a cinder block.