(no subject)
it takes so much strength to feel inspired. it takes so much power to overcome the surface and take the iced plunge into the reality that lies in surrealism.
but all i can do is cry about it. am one of the helplessly weak, blowing bubbles through her nose, looking upwards at the scathed belly of a human ship, but having no motivation to clamor after it.
the seaweed is wrapped about my knees. algae is softening my vision. dreams, like sharks, sense my fear& draw near.
i can't get a handle on living. " ". on life. " ". i can only disect the morsels i know ring true about this earth, this oxygen, vallies of flesh swelling and shriveling under the storm of green paper. franklins, washingtons, jacksons. zombies struggling for the watermarks. all fucking life-long. the first sunrise to the final sunset. i want to leave my needs behind for a vessel more careless, shapeless, weightless, & true.
we have minted our own sicknesses, counterfietted our own visions, sold out our own abstract ideals for something, let's say, more "tangible". "realistic."
you gave up the gold for the sturdiness of copper. you traded in your bottomless glass of starshine for mediocrity that charges for refills.
so i cry.
i can't beat it, i sure as hell won't join it. so here i am, suspended by my own philosophies. selfproclaimed turncoat.
but sometimes i feel moved.
motions/colours/audio blurring into an art so magnificent no braincells could quite comprehend it; an apparition so asthetically pleasing.
it shook with irony, her hair tumbling below & about her, swirling with the ins & outs Dali's fantasy. bells/eyelids/meltingclocks, all private, all sacred perceptions. the music didn't care about her freefall, her lost love. it played the soundtrack to it's own world.
then insects poured from his palms, she pawed at a mangled hand in the street
& i realized that there had to be so much more. dimensions i've never even comtemplated, so many pages i've yet to scribe.
captivated/manipulated/drawn in tight/afraid/awake enough to slip into REM with awareness/happily torn between a grey "0" & rainbow infinity.
tears continue to be my only method of consolation.
but all i can do is cry about it. am one of the helplessly weak, blowing bubbles through her nose, looking upwards at the scathed belly of a human ship, but having no motivation to clamor after it.
the seaweed is wrapped about my knees. algae is softening my vision. dreams, like sharks, sense my fear& draw near.
i can't get a handle on living. " ". on life. " ". i can only disect the morsels i know ring true about this earth, this oxygen, vallies of flesh swelling and shriveling under the storm of green paper. franklins, washingtons, jacksons. zombies struggling for the watermarks. all fucking life-long. the first sunrise to the final sunset. i want to leave my needs behind for a vessel more careless, shapeless, weightless, & true.
we have minted our own sicknesses, counterfietted our own visions, sold out our own abstract ideals for something, let's say, more "tangible". "realistic."
you gave up the gold for the sturdiness of copper. you traded in your bottomless glass of starshine for mediocrity that charges for refills.
so i cry.
i can't beat it, i sure as hell won't join it. so here i am, suspended by my own philosophies. selfproclaimed turncoat.
but sometimes i feel moved.
motions/colours/audio blurring into an art so magnificent no braincells could quite comprehend it; an apparition so asthetically pleasing.
it shook with irony, her hair tumbling below & about her, swirling with the ins & outs Dali's fantasy. bells/eyelids/meltingclocks, all private, all sacred perceptions. the music didn't care about her freefall, her lost love. it played the soundtrack to it's own world.
then insects poured from his palms, she pawed at a mangled hand in the street
& i realized that there had to be so much more. dimensions i've never even comtemplated, so many pages i've yet to scribe.
captivated/manipulated/drawn in tight/afraid/awake enough to slip into REM with awareness/happily torn between a grey "0" & rainbow infinity.
tears continue to be my only method of consolation.