The Anchor

i find myself walking around lately
equal parts pain and bliss
my physical form continues to deteriorate
it seems like this now current state of pain
has somehow always been there
i have a hard time remembering what it was like
getting through the day without it
this body has become so heavy, so weighed down

it’s a blessing in disguise

this deadweight is an anchor to a world
that i will soon leave behind
the earth can keep my body
my spirit is already leaving
free from the tethers of the mass it leaves below

bliss is feeling pain and not being owned by it
bliss is having the clarity to know that everything “man-made” is trivial
(and that applies to your social, econmic and authoritarian structures)
bliss, true bliss is no longer caring about anything

it all goes straight through me now

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Fuck You, Human.

i must confess
i don’t care who or what you worship
i don’t care who is, or who isn’t president
i don’t care if you’re conservative or liberal
i don’t care about “my” country or “your” country
i don’t care about equal rights or unequal rights
i don’t care about race
i don’t care about taxes
i don’t care about promotions or demotions
i don’t care about my issues or your issues
i don’t care about what’s trending on netflix or facebook
i don’t care about your face in your selfies
(if you want my interest, feed the beast and show more tits)
i don’t care what pleases you
i don’t care what offends you
it’s all just clutter to me
pile after pile of bullshit
why should it matter?
i’m so over the pettiness of human existence
just shut the fuck up

One Second of Eternity

There is no relief tonight,
just minutes chasing hours,
and hours chasing minutes,
Stuck in a loop
Stuck in a space that I’ve spent too much time in.
Can there be any oxygen left in this box?
Am I even breathing anymore?
Am I breathing any less?
I need to break myself out of this
I can’t keep up with the flood
crashing down on me like a tsunami
filling me up with this fucking grey sludge
There has to be a crack in this wall somewhere
Just point me in the direction
I don’t care if I have to kick
or scratch at it for the rest of my life
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something to focus on
just give me something

Eyes of the Stranger

How can a life so hollow feel so heavy?

Days flee like wind ripping through my fingers
I can feel everything passing by
but my hands have failed me,
they are the wrong tools to do anything about any thing
So clumsy and awkward, helpless and hopeless
I am going to observe this event called “life”
I will sit still,
with eyes wide as they can be, I will gaze into the mirror
until every last feature on my face becomes unrecognizable to me
I will stare into the eyes of the stranger
I will breathe deep and full
without a drop of worry or guilt,
and for just a moment I will know
that the weight of the world is on his shoulders, not mine.

A Shadow in the Light

It is the ungodly hour of 11am.  The air is frigid outside, but the sun is shining so brightly reflecting off of the snowbanks and the ice.  I could barely open my eyes.  The sun does something to my senses, or perhaps it’s the lack of sleep. Either way,  I can’t remember the last time I was up and outside, in public during this time of day.

The sensation makes my eyes sting, I feel my eyelids pucker in disbelief. I hear phantom clanks and clangs in my ears, like a child banging on pots and pans with a big wooden spoon, while cheap metal wind chimes do a obnoxious blusterous dance..traffic jam..angry men, threatening violence over money, some big truck or bus must be driving in reverse..BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP.

The bright light leaves me temporarily mindless, heartless, and soulless.  All the depth of my being abandoned this body as soon as that heavy wooden door creaked open, letting the great white purge in.

At this point time speeds and bends and warps.  Flashes and voices surge through me at levesls and volumes that I can not begin to process. I am in the heart of a raging storm. I push beyond maxium sensory overload…

And my time in the light is done.

Using what is left of my instinct, I find myself traveling back, in a very automatic kind of way. I just follow the path back home, back to the dark, away from all of the light and sounds and cold.  As I re-enter my apartment I feel a weight drop off my shoulders.  If I didn’t know any better I would swear a hundred pound sandbag had literally just dropped off of my shoulders.  The weight feels that real. My eyes once puckered and blind now turn into a more drowsy, loose, heavy feeling.  It’s almost like the feeling you get when you first slip into a warm bath. My vision is black and spotted but my eyes feel so good I don’t care that I can’t see. I would rather not see anything but black at this moment. The subtle tick of the clock in the kitchen is all my ears hear.  It is so soothing, it sounds like feathers falling gently on a pillow to me. A comforting lullaby.

As my senses return to their natural state, it is then that I feel the toll that has been taken. I don’t feel like going into anymore detail, but I will say that I do not belong here.  Not in that kind of daylight, not with those kinds of people. That is not my world. I don’t know where I belong but I know without a doubt that it is not here.  I wonder if they even see me. I walk like them, talk like them, act like them. I know I can play the part for short periods of time, but do any of them realize who or what I really am?

I guess the real question is, do they even care?
No. I don’t think that they do.