By force and energy, changes are made and maintained.

Years go by and I contradict what I know with my actions.

My change purse is light. My value - though never high - continuously sinks lower and lower.

I wanna go with the flow but the flow just won't take me along.

I'm a grown man thrashing within shallow waters. I've tried to cauterize my wounds from my body but my pants are weighed down with **** from the past like a baby with diapers.

I don't want to make living this life all about myself.  
Too late!

Everything and nothing mean everything and nothing at all.

I need a friend to get high with.  

I need a friend to cry with when crying is all I can do.

-----------------------------
Making order of a ****** mass, recovered testicles and shards of bone are filtered through trembling hands alongside the unseen vacancy standing silently - waiting blank and patient. A doctor's notes blown about by force, scatter and lift through the air peacefully moved by music and pain. The air is not thick, it is dry and light. You must suffer to get here but no one believes here is a place to be.

Just ask your neighbor or your bosses friends. These ones have gotten lost within the lies that split the darkness from truth to be hung up in a viewing room for loose bottles of beer with friends Sunday afternoon trying to drown the silent tapping of panic. They won't believe you because what you describe harkens to ghosts and legend.

Be very aware.

We are normal, but I guess the stars don't suppose with a consciousness as thin as ours that they are supposed to be anything else but what they seem to be. In my mind is not our universe but it is mine within that which we share simultaneously - some points are marked out by now, then, and who knows when.

I want to be confident within this mystery and walk amidst the rest with a strong sense of myself or at least secure enough to walk strongly fragmented with acceptance.

I invite you all.

Not you though.

The one inside you.

The one without a body.

Remind me that our experience is not limited to these skin and bones.

My eyes gaze over the table of food through the company and off into the distance beyond the mildew on the walls.

I would feel more comfortable collecting the cobwebs from this basement ceiling.

Instead, I try hard to seem interested in what others are saying while avoiding eye contact, and -

BANG!! It's time to eat. The moment I've been most waiting for. Now I can concentrate on the food and do what I really came for.

Never eat and run though. It's time to act interested in the others once more.

Karaoke. Who doesn't love an overly enthusiastic host hoisting a microphone in their face?

Thanks for the food but I don't feel like singing a Kenny Rogers song or a whoever the **** song of some twit whose been in the top 40 within the past 5 years, or 20 for that matter.

Thank Jupiter they are distracted. Now is my chance to slip out quietly. I make it out the door and find out that someone parked behind me.

what else do you got in that cd case? Any Conway Twitty by chance? Oh really. **** it, I'm next

I haven't written about you until now because I fear the words won't be meaningful enough. It's funny how something so important shines a new perspective on what I considered so important.  

You are...
The most important part of my life and I cry because I love you so much. I cry because I don't love myself enough to give you what you deserve.

I love you so much the world means nothing and everything. This world is not good enough for you.

I'm sorry I'm so broken.

Love,

Your dad

My wings are healing now.
It's been a long sad time for brittle dinosaur bones. I can barely recall the names that ran me through with deceit and malice. I'm feeling content to be average, or something else altogether - more of an outlier really.

It's okay.

I'm okay today.

Good morning again. Wake the **** up! Back to sleep once again in my head. Sway back and forth in front of the mirror until I **** near collapse into the wall with a stream of drool perfectly poised at my mouth before I wipe it off and sit on the toilet.

Perhaps my phone will keep me awake.

Nope.

I'm rocking again and only give up on trying to stay awake bare assed when my phone hitting the floor prompts me up and at em once more to lay in the tub that, once filled, barely covers my **** and ***** that are forcefully tucked underneath my gut flop.

Awake again now
sweatier than before
less refreshed than left over fries after a microwaved cycle.

Them: "look how different your life is."

Me: "new responsibilities - same limitations."

I haven't grown. Life changes. Look back at the pictures and you'll see - less hair on the head that surrounds the same fat face.

At least I wear deodorant, although it is my wife's until I pick up some more of my own.

No use for a bigger screen that my mind can't accommodate. I hear voices in the dark and paint pictures of one color in the corner of my clouded imagination. My thoughts consist of questions. The answers come in the form of blank print plates with damaged lettering.

My smile cracks the moment between naïveté and contempt.  

Can't take a break while breaking. I'm alive somewhere in between, walking on one side of survival and falling apart completely.  

I pray to something outside myself while bleeding from the inside out to echoing laughter - colorful lubricant for the slow death of plastic bags and cellophane.

Hear me now where I feel nothing and meet me where the pain screams out for safety.  

I don't have an ending that is worthy of what is left.