man i want stability

and attention from somebody

and i also wanna smoke something

and make all kindsa money

and i wanna drive my car real fast

and go places that excite me

and feel like pepole understand

the way i think about things

man i feel so outta place

but i know there’s nothin’ wrong with me

and i’m thinkin about outerspace

and not whats right in fronta me

and i feel like i’m ignored right now

and i do not like that feeling

i wish i had a cable

to connect our brains together

and form a perfect being

that could love itself forever

and there’d be no need for doubting

or silly little games

everything’d be perfect

individuality is pain

i wish that drugs were harmless

and we could do ’em as we please

without the social stigma

that comes from being freed

and i wish i could make music

like the people i admire

cuz the way i think their minds must work

puts them up above me so much higher

not to mention the attention

that comes with awesome skills,

yeah, that’s my intention.

cuz i wanna change the world

man my leg is bouncing

that crazy kinda energy

that kind that’s good for nothing

that comes out of anxiety

cuz i’m sitting in the same damn spot

my mind’s moving cuz my body can’t

thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts

make me feel like i’m affected

when i’m really not affected

it’s crazy what perception changes change about reality

man i wish i had a joint or a cigarette or something

but honestly thats just because i’d rather avoid this

and i can’t because i’m sat behind a desk

my job’s “important”

it really is though

i’m just cynical

man i want stability

Cultural coordination continues to contribute constant changes and carries conditioning cross-generationally.

Careful consideration? C’mon...

Complete corporate control,

clamoring conmen carelessy create cabals as

cacophanies of cancerous callouts curate callousness and

crush consideration of counter-arguments.

Collaborative culture-conscious calamaty.

Craziness.

Factions fragment facing facts,

fractured faiths fail to feed families forgotten by fabricated forces.

Formerly frusterated, now forever forward focused finding former failures freeing. Fleeting feelings fly fervently,

frequent familiar forces fill faces and fallible folks favoring facades face famine. Facilitated facetiousness faithlessly forges falsehoods, “factfinders” flippantly forget facts. Foolishness.

Meaning-maker’s madness masks mankind’s morality, making matters macabre, morbid, morose and misunderstood..

Meanwhile,

spiritual succubi salaciously separate significance and simplicity.

Sinfuly, souls are sold solace.

Surely someone sees the same?

Pretty pleasant people pretend playing party-host precedes

pleasing paranoid porcupines pricking passerby’s pretending

pain palls past paroxysm peevishly pedantic, petulantly

pigheaded prevaricating probity, pretending platitudes.

After arising almost adamantly,

afraid and abdicating abashed abatements,

atoning abysmal absolvement; accentuating accolades

acquits admonished; albeit: ad-infinitum.

Laden labyrinths languish, less laudable,

lingering lyricists linguistics, lost,

lingeringly liquidated,

loathing luminaries.

**********

This is what it sounds like:

https://voicespice.com/Player.aspx?c=p&h=ADCDF730&j=1CD9D2

The two sat facing one another not breaking eye contact 

"You know why I am here?"

"I do"

"Do you have anything you would like to say... or ask perhaps?"

"I don't"

"Listen I know that you have tried, look at you now- you've let yourself go"

"I put aside time on myself for time in myself"

"What does that even mean?" 

"It means I want to get better, and it is difficult enough, and nothing make up fixes"

"You've become quite angry I see" said laughingly

"I have"

"...and your faith, is this mess of you still clinging to faith?"

"I still have faith, I would not be here sitting with you if I didn't" tears slipped out

"but you know I am here to kill you?"

"I do"

"So why need to have the pleasantries? I'm just curious"

"Because I have faith"

"We did cover that you know"

"I do"

"Yet here we are"

"we are"

"I wonder- will this be our last encounter?" 

"It could be"

"And let's say it is, tell me- what happens next"

"There is no next, if there were we would not be here... this is it... "

Silence. 

Eye contact and silence. 

"Do you need help?"

"I don't"

"Alright, and how about one more list of the.."

          "...no... no more lists no more guilt, I have no time for lists"

"wow, okay then- no more lists" biting the corner of her mouth, "When?"

"Soon but I don't know and I won't know until it happens" 

"... and do you think you will go to hell?"

"I don't know" her head bent lowly shaking side to side

"Well all I need is the permission then" in a slippery tone

"okay"

"Not to be cheeky- but what you want is going to have to be more than an O.K"

"Yeah, I understand that. I will write you a letter"

Silent. Eye contact and silent. 

"Sounds pretty standard, that's not like you"

"I am not me anymore"

"I can see it actually, I actually can see it"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore"

"That's fine, but you will let me know then?"

"Yes"

One more look at one another, only this time more in full. 

With a deep sigh, she stood- pushed her chair in, and walked away from the mirror. 

Oh, never have I found an out for the likes of us.

We ride to the end of the line on a Greyhound bus.

Our hearts punch in cluttered synchronicity.

Hoping for a little chivalry when I get to the city.

And maybe my self-mutilated mind will cut a break

to a girl who’s fallen on hard times.

Missing home, vestiges of pine fading.

Wanna’ lean into oncoming traffic—

wait nevermind. I’m fine.

Totally fine.

Never have I found an in for the likes of us.

Shut out from life, pariahs, anomalies we were.

When the planes came and things changed,

raining fire from above,

it was just the signal to future vigils;

a little smoke to suffocate our love.

A silver scream severed my thoughts,

when silverscreen tableaus of disaster

did manifest.

You looked to the sky with a coin in your teeth.

And a drag in your eyes that could never find rest.

And we couldn’t tell from afar if it was a bird

or a plane. And what fell was either a bomb or,

well...

Recalling those days at the fair where we met,

laughter hanging gently in the air.

Surrounded, complicitly stranded in your care.

Oh, never have I found a clear road for the likes of us.

We’ve taken to paving our own ways.

The chore of dragging our murky hearts falls on us,

lest we lose footing in these strange days.

And we stood at the top of the Ferris Wheel,

looking down on the shapes filing in below.

I looked in your eyes for the very first time,

and unbeknownst to us it began to

snow.

And on the morning of our wedding day,

with undue pride in my voice I rasply declared

“I am a woman of many strong convictions.”

And you retorted.

“I’ve seen your rap sheet. I know.”

Ambivalence my crutch, the sky stood

on my shoulders and grew heavier

each day.

Words like a band of thieves who

cleared out the orchard and fixed our

fence along the way.

Our lives such a spectrum of gray

(or so I thought).

Oh, never have I seen you

shiver that way

as you did the moment before your death.

Puzzle pieces of wall hung to shield us

from nature’s fiery breath.

And as the embers floated away with you,

passengers into the sky,

my screams crumbled to whimpers inside me.

Choked by powder, I couldn’t cry.

And now the rubble is a memory

as I stand at the precipice of this nexus bright.

Ephemera stirs off me with the wind.

The city beckons with artificial light.

And I have nothing to amend this fresh start

but the clothes on my back and

remnants of you in my heart.

And this burnt-out match I once used to keep warm...

Extinguished by a rainstorm.

Recalling by its fiery amb’r brush

your arms,

the pieces of our stolen youth,

the times we

laughed and hawed with nothing

much to prove.

We’d been playing with matches long before the busy sky

fractured our fantasy and drowned us in ‘real’.

In memorium of your burnt body splayed,

I will rein in this fear and try my hardest to heal.

I will make a life for myself.

My past won’t hold me down.

I will take this used match of mine

and burn these nightmares to the ground.

#fiction

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whips your spirit into a frenzy?

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I write to ignite frightened minds and remind them of the might they might be inclined to find inside the confines of life interwined with divine vibes and sublime rhymes propeling lives to rise and thrive. I write because words are magic and sentences are spells, and the thought of underutilizing ourselves is tragic so I feel frantic to go savage and ring some chilling bells. I write because letters are elements, words are molecules, and paragraphs are the means to create worlds forming books upon shelves. I write because I can.

Understand?