again and again
I believe in it
I know it exists
feeding on infinity

if you were a poem
darkness would get deeper and deeper in you
till it turned into white or alkaline nostalgia
it is something only yours, so much laughter
as if life itself was an obsession with a strange pulse

I believe in it
I feel it exists
feeding on flesh and bones
on the cycle of wonder

post to the void
and a stranger or two
those passing by
           I hope you're good
I hope you avoid
what's bringing you down
I hope a smile
            can follow a frown
I hope you give
just as good as you get
            I hope you can live
without fear and regret
I hope this finds you
just as you need it
if not today, I'll wait
                  hope
and repeat it

January 9th marks 18 years of living without you .
And it pains me to know the rest of my life will have the same. story, because another lonely birthday is another year without you mom.
another year without you dad.

I wonder if you look down on me.
Do you see me? The things that I see?
Do you wish as hard as I do every night to just be able to remember the warmth I had with you?
Because I’ve never even felt that warmth with you.

When people lose a loved one they tell me they can relate to me, telling me they cry over the visions of the past they see.
But they don’t understand what its like to cry over your imagination.
They don’t understand what its like to be forced to dream because you don’t exist in any of my memories.

All I can do is wish for you not to see me.
Because I’m a hopeless wreck that numbs the pain with a bottle of Hennessy.
A hopeless wreck that pumps so much black in his veins that he struggles to breathe.
A SadBoy who wants to cut deep and watch his life seep

A hopeless boy who wants his mom more than anything
I would do anything just to see you mom


I don’t know what to do anymore
I would be lying if I said I ever did
Because night after night, fight after fight, sin after sin
I tell myself I will change, just do make the same mistake as before

My soul has an echo
Even when I say nothing
When I do not call out
To demons
In the darkness
Perhaps only when
Rocks from the precipice
From poorly shodden cliffs
Shoot into the abyss
It is your name
That calls back to me
It is you who resides
In my deepest depths
My soul has an echo
The wanderings of my heart
Have made you their muse
No matter my song
You are my melody

is fitting you?
The shiny metal kind
like a boxer wears after a match-
his eyes glass flares

or the night sky against the sea
like a street stalker's ****** spree

or the stringy hair on her head
in a wooden box-
her last bed

or this land in dust
after the nuke
all is rust
earth cloaked in puke

Coming Apart

marketing value of brains
marketing worth of knowing

college sorting machine

Murray from the Bell Curve

Just yesterday Lex Fridman, and this guy
odd co-suggestion
- do you think we are evolving?
A shared culture,
shared tastes and prefer-
ences incessant conferences

2022, and a few, a rare few, seeing
bits in patterns of eight,
2-bits, et cetera

Samuel Johnson, obscure as can be,
practically kabalisticly mysteriousus,
sum mostus
firstus, fundus mentalis, serpent mind/

Marshall McLuhan 1967--
Buckminster Fuller

The Beatles, et al,

Acid, Grace Slick, Tallahachee Bridge,
Rick Ridenour Suicide
1970 - too late, too soon, take your time,

put it back into your head, your head, baby,
it was all real
it was all real at the time, so long
so long, since we found some body

to love, till the end
of time,

tipped and split into ever more, after
never before.

There was never such a time as this.