(no subject)
watching it burn would imply action, and either that action was to protect something or someone. destroy something or someone. The end of a well thought out plan or primitive last desperate act to bring resolve to a long drawn out mistake. i can neither plan, nor act impulsively any more. the matches are breaking in my little box. i can start passing them out. trying to leave a trail again. i have left a trace behind me. disregard to myself and actions that speak of me, perhaps a downfall. just makes the mess a bit harder to explain when you arent speaking backwards. no trust left. but it hasnt all been a lie. parts of me do want to burn. some of that smile, a good portion of it is true. probably just the toothy part. so. i leave bits behind. are you all going to shake your head when im dead? running joke that finally tripped, count the fingers and throats. if most are still there it will be easy to laugh i suppose. but that isnt everything. i need a level field to grab control. get punched into my own path of will. find some will. write one. not end up in one for a long time. art supplies would not have been a great consolation prize you know. heart the lungs. stomach. brain. kidneys. cancer. factors i cant control, and probably was never part of. my fears are just..... too close to the surface any more. regret. i dont remember how to make people realize i do care. i have spent far too much time wearing life down to a pebble. i cant laugh things off any more. last chance to make it across the road and not get run over here. frogger has more balls than i do. or he cant stand on one side of the road and just stare at traffic thinking, producing nothing but excuses. so i can lay here. wish, and wish. hope my faith and soul right out. and its not even fair on the rest. her you, any of you. i dont know what i hope to find in you. nostalgia, memories, even the preset image and expectations. i have to wipe them up as much as possible. not a seek and destroy, but a salvage. summer was supposed to be a coma. let things fix themselves you know. let people happen. but it's forced. the straighter the face i put on the harder it is to look others in the eye. i dont think they want to look back any more either. pulling with my eyes maybe. pulling at whats on the other side. not enough of me to make it worth losing chunks of them in the end. i dont have will, wants, desires. nothing so true or deep i couldnt wash it away with an hour of sleep deprived thought. most of me could be washed away in less time any more. i fear having nothing to say. cant let it burn. itd be the desperate last act now. cleanse with the fire and light. watch the light become darkness. watch the world fade with eyes wide open awake. find the place of unfocused focus. then let it go. let that shit all go. find my heart. find some heart felt homes in others. truth, the kind that doesnt need to sting. real. genuine. figure out if i am anything, any part of these things, or if i have willed myself out. or has that been so much of the problem for so long? have i just been.... too little. i cant escape or release. and truthfully dont have anyone to say a thing to. whisper anything real to. id have to laugh after saying something. bury it in my persona again. run out of room in the old yard. do i have to apologize? admit defeat? declaration? i can. will. it will be done. anything, if it makes things ok.