August 2008
7 posts
preparation.
i innovate by generating hatred for hate. i contemplate, to cultivate my mind, like a cassette in rewind, i review what i knew, and replace it with what i know, throw conventional out the window. i unleash my imagination, sample the elation of flight, the day ends, the sun departs, and so begins the night. dwell upon nurtured senses, senseless. back against the fences, defenseless. swallow half of...
turn the clock back.
i want to turn back time, rewind my mistakes. give up my mind, whatever it takes. repeal a motion, take back the act. rescind the word, rewrite the fact. with no regrets, could i overcome the strife? i want to, learn to live for the love of learning. i would live to learn to love my life. right now i imagine it pleasant enough. here, at the apex of then, and later, i stand at time’s...
withdrawn.
i like to immerse myself in a world of my own making. carve out the strata in painstaking detail, a whale of a planet. just the way i planned it. sail on ceaseless seas, walk among empiric trees. memories of days long past, hope that days to come will last. and it is close, not even an atom’s width apart, the space of time between the beats of my heart. my world resides in the inner recesses...
my childhood.
i never noticed when i lost it. it was the saturday morning when you woke up, and it was raining outside. it was the peek under your desk at your fingers because multiplication was daunting. it was the swagger after you watched a movie, and played the hero in your mind for days after. it was two pen caps that were spacecraft, cutting a swathe in dire competition across your desktop. it was even...
immortality.
i delve into wordcraft for sanity’s sake. it is here, in words, that i claim my stake. through this medium, my will is preserved. through this medium i gain, immortality deserved. it is with assertive faith, that i deign to be heard. in this, ephemeral pen, which becomes amaranthine word.
maturity.
i feel the weight of my years, little they be. though i possess eyes, it is with my weary mind that i see. there is a purpose to this, it can not be denied, but how i might know of it, the heavens do not confide. where is my guide, that i might not falter? there is no pull on my reins, but the pull of my halter. were that i had not this burden, free will. i pray for a finish and the peace it will...
the other me.
he fell through a hole. he caught onto a ledge, he tried to hold on to the edge, scrambled and wiggled, but someone stomped on his fingers, and down he trickled. now, some imposter parades around in his demeanor. haven’t you noticed that he’s meaner? and, thus he becomes alienated, as people realize unconsciously, that he’s become tainted. with that border of different, like a...
