I wrote a letter running through croked lines left with blue ink splotches
This letter turning into a report and then came into a small graphite that became a pencil
This pencil worn down with age turn into an easer and then into a tree
this tree was turned into oxygen and then this oxygen turn into helyom turned into h20
this h20 became my body and ( Read more... )

This house that I spend my days in. A place for a quant living for a family tree line of _. Hair stops of every plumbing hole and covered on the bathroom walls, no one try’s to fix the problems but feels the best way to get by with them is to leave them be, let the kinks work themselves out by all means. We meet here at late nights inviting drunken ( Read more... )

The world is my person hell. Tired of the truth butting in and taking over or emphazema crying to be loved. Sad part is am just upset because I’ve been living a lie. The bridge has tumbled down into the water and gave me a heartache that calls for unproblematic deplumation of own discernment. For the record I can’t remember the last time I have ( Read more... )

Sitting in an exuviated prison known as a van will with church pews, stars, satellites. I watch couples hugs and share their antimonite others while I sit back and think about mine. These highways filled with dust bowls and truck stops with the smell of cedar, I’ve grown up loving. We sleep in an unknown town that I’ll never see again, I’ll name it ( Read more... )

pure bliss is what I feel right now after finishing a nice smooth cigurette and laying on my girlfriends bed listing to owen. Knowing that this time does have beening and I am living for a higher existence, higher then man. not much can state this state of nervana but floating on a cloud at a perfect night when you can see all the stars and see how ( Read more... )

Not sleeping and being up at 6 am. Seeing the light hitting the trees while the wind moves the leaves, the grass swaying, and chickens' singing is pure bliss to me. I thank god for opening my eyes to this moment. Why is it when I don't rest I find rest? I put on music with no words and I find myself in the perfect meditation even wants to make me ( Read more... )

I hear a voice coming from the top of my head. I hear a calling in a suddenness that I have never felt before. Like a thousand words in the silence of the air hitting the trees or trying to look past that trying to find a bigger picture, or even yet to look at the object and be blank, not really seeing anything at all just day to day shit stuck. ( Read more... )

If I’m not tired then I’m getting worse ( Read more... )

Paradigms have turned into dust while my fornix is finaly given out the blood that flows in my body has been over run with white cells while I sing love songs of old artist. I look at myself loosing faith in my hero's while they loose faith in themselves. I see this as I sign showing nothing will matter in a year or even tomorrow. I can't think, I ( Read more... )

Beds sitting ontop of me ( Read more... )