Spin me out of this world Blow my mind. There's something better to experience. You're stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Dead. Stop listening to what you want to hear. Hear what you need to hear, see what you need to see. Be what you need to be. Some hear truths (and lose themelves) Hear truths. Find truths. (Close your mouth) Open your mind.
Too bad, no solution; only a personal solution to this mental pollution.
I've looked for a better way, but I've been shot straight out (of the sky) Out, exposed to the elements. Out, with a tree and a fern. Out, dedicated and elated. Out now, with a fire and an urn.
You've heard that story he tells. The one about the haunted cabin; the one with the wrapping paper. The wrapping paper that goes "WRAP". I think most of us have heard that story.
But the truth is, he's not going to tell it anymore. That old man, he grew old.
Crawl through the wormhole; Alice down the rabbit hole. Morpheus and his red pill, slip and trip into an alien land. Search and discover, explore and uncover.
This is not an option anymore. ----------------
Rotten apple life, ----------------------------------- tree fall breeze. Grass landing, worm food for life.
I've slipped off and I've flipped off (my heart) I've gotten lost and stayed in the trees with a fire. (reflecting in my eyes) A small torch in my hand; a dancing liar. Here we go again: a pulling on my mind's feet. A loose foothold. A loose willpower. That **** book about a wallflower, nostalgia brain, going insane. (quite literally) I've got some shaky hands but a sealed mouth. The old soul is a cold soul headed south. This trip will be a bourbon; properly aged. No one knows. No one knows. Know one that knows. That was the night everything changed.
Black cat omens & black cat fireworks scattered about the porch. My house: packed to the gills with sand and dandy little tangled rubber band *****. What does this mean & why bother with finding out? Just in general; ask around. Southbound and moving fast Don't look back but watch your backtrack. I'll have another drink or two before this night is through. No doubt.
Mishaps and mispronunciation, messy rooms and messy beards, crops and crop duster airplanes. Too many insiders, too many to count. We counted on the fresh air in our bike tires to get us out. Out in the open world, the woods, the fields, the lakes, the ponds, the Indiana bonds too tight to ignore. A prison with open doors if nothing more.
We've all lost our spark. Maybe a new start on an old habit, clarity for a change, all the same blamed, framed, and insane. Time to call in the strays a game, a laugh for the blues and the blue jays; the good old days that never came.
Sloppy steps take a walk out the door. Take a little sample for something more. Give yourself a look around. Take a spin; round and round. Slip, trip, and find your path. Off for a ride; outward bound. Freezing rain & slippery streets; beats the hell out of dingy air and stained sheets. Unknown figures and shivers in your spine. Capturing images for a story in Better Times.
Fickle gleaming light once shown bright through the tunnels of your eye holes; dreaming and deeming yourself truthful in action and fastened in your traction (on the Traveled Path) A refraction, split in two. Mind soaked in indecisive dew. At a loss, where do the paths cross? Crossing your mind, two zig-zagging, spiraling, constantly colliding comet tails leave debris that hails down on the soft and welcoming surface of the brain.
I'm leaning on a crutch to help me stay tall. Slender, tall mind Short, fat heart. Eyelids: much like the mind (a projector screen for my dreams) When I speak, I read the scripts of the movies; whatever movies I've been watching. Subconsciously, all conversation is a mere recap, a synopsis of the film I watched the night before. A real spoiler to the listener. I'm a movie ruiner.
I'm the only one who sees the works that I spoil. Thank god for that.
You're going to make me lose my mind, but I'm okay with that. I love you for that. Take me someplace new. Set up a homestead (under my skull) Plant your garden on my sara bellum. Grow. Let's **** my life and make a baby. Bring it up in a new home; a home in the mind (my) forrest. Building, building, and building. (something worthwhile) I'll take you to the hardware store. Climb a ladder over me; or a dozen each taller than the latter.
That's enough food for thought. Take a swing at it, she said. You're good enough to get something done. There's a fluttering in your eyes & a coldness in your sighs.
We've all been snuffed out and gobbled up; spat out, trampled and crushed, beaten and strung up, **** on, rolled into a ball, kicked in the teeth, burnt to a crisp, ripped up, strangled, cut to pieces, and left to bleed out.
Splitting hairs and stepping on toes Pulling teeth and breaking bones Biting and fighting. Killing and dying. My heart is hard as nails and your eyes are lying. Wasting time, killing time, and ******* with my time.
Those Hamm's didn't drink themselves. No more lighting incense on your shelves. That bed is a ***** one my friend. The bridge burnt, you watched the fires end. And there's been a thing or two, written on that wall. And a thing or two more, before paint covers it all.
Einstein smoked a pipe. Wet stones for the ivy knives keep the jungle clean shaven. Stay dressed for work. "What line of work are you in?" "Marketing, old boy." He didn't wear a beard to work; neither does the jungle these days. Einstein smoked a pipe.
I've seen limonade spilt down the sewer and down the drain. (life limonade) These limons have long past rotten. Stale, and forgotten; limonade spillway.
I wouldn't be satisfied with the quality of that limonade. (not at all)
Grey nights, cold and candleless I'm handleless, no grip on anything. A memory, remembering a hushed whispering fluttering and disappearing to a dreamscape, pursued in dedication Medication is the modern vacation.
I'm drunk and I'm drunk with bitterness. One lucky man he must be; seeing you by his side in the morning as I once did. How am I? My pals ask. Never (getting) better.
We haven't gone home yet; but will we ever? Will we bother with it? Are we best left alone (lost)? Keeping hushed and brushing (away) each other's (troubles) hair our of our eyes. The heart only ever tries. (and beats on until it dies)
I've been spending my time more wisely; staying lively and bundled. Sometimes your eyeballs dance. (so surreal) Eye've been looking and looking. (for something real) Too bad it's been found (out) and these days there's a lot to learn about. (new things) Keep on keeping on; rolling on and playing (music) on.
My eyes have wandered to the woods and back to where we could and should have spent our evenings, nights, and seen the morning lights through the naked limbs as our limbs remain tangled among the root mangled soil.
There's nothing sweet about nostalgia. There's something sweet about the past. There's something sweet about the future. There's something sweet about this moment. But, there's nothing sweet about nostalgia.
pulling thoughts and memories from deep within each other's minds. Analyzing and reflecting, judging and accepting, loving and hating, but learning nonetheless.
I've heard a story that is so pure and cold it must have been harvested in a sunless ice age. _______ Kindred and distilled spirits, seeping through the cracks in the strangers backs and colliding among the beds of the deep blue. Blue eyes and stormy skies making a flood on the floor. Close the window and open the door. I've never spaced my questions as they could be; all the words where they should be. I've never been to a place that's made me feel insignificant What's the trouble?: Now I'm here and I'm not being subtle.
I hope that my heart is still beating when you awake and start breathing again.
I've got a boneless back & vision hazed black around the edges. Pushed to the edge & back around again. A beginning never marked; shrouded in fog. Cluttered thoughts at home w/ no cause to listen. Glistening with an utterance of time ill spent; orchestrated within a hollowed head. All power to the engines. Full speed ahead.
You're a strange breed. You look out past my street (when I'm fast asleep) With the moon reflecting in the puddles in the corner of the street, Or, the corners of your corneas. (tear puddles) Until your vision is mottled and your sobs muffled. Continue to stare out your window (forever) Keep looking until you find something better.
I can only hope that (my) life doesn't wind out of control or wind up killing me dead (er) than a doornail to a door to someplace better than anyplace but here. I have to keep the faith. (in myself and my fellow humans) We don't know any better so we judge those who don't know any better. (Anyone can do better.)
I can feel the grinding (tearing and ripping) (apart) my nervous system. Out here in this deep black; not a soul speaks back to the whispers or the shouts.
I've been lost before, but never past the confines of my own imagination. I am (lost) outside.
Times have changed; we're not so topsy-turvey. Well calculated always, cautious in all ways. Take a deep breath (and) a deep dive through the eyeball into the mind. Float around forever; bouncing off my thoughts & ideas. Swim, little mermaid.
I've lit more campfires than I can count. (I've never lit one with you) I've climbed trees; dead, rotting trees. Skipping rocks and laying out creek soaked socks to dry, but I've never waded in the water with (you) my hands in the air, hooting and hollering at the stars. I wish each day had been ours. (as well)
(light candles and stare at the flames) Black dots blot out your face.
Camping; facing the wind. Feeling all too safe; sleepwalking (now and then) There's something to be said about a foundation. (a strong one) and there's something to be said about a dedication to a flimsy one. A road trip or an expedition? A day dream or a premonition? Take baby steps (toward big steps) Take what you want (need) from this and (life) everything. Smirk and scoff when you're smirked (and/or) scoffed. Biting your tongue (off) now; not sleeping at all somehow. Coffee brain like a crack ******* flame. (do not condone) Unwind your sanity to keep hunkered down in what is real and more full-heartedly genuine than any other known human experience. (live) (die) (get read about)
Cry out your heart while it pumps blood out your eyes. We've both been ripped apart and sewn together with eachother's parts. Now your blood flows through me; slithering through my veins like snakes from hell.
Willingly submissive to my lacking productivity, I stir around those little thoughts aimlessly. That cat will finally look into a day in the life and grant me some amnesty.
Out of food for thought and the stores are closed. Closed eyes and sighs tonight. Tomorrow I'll go shopping for an idea or two; mending my inspiration with tape and glue. dot dot dot dadot dot. tap tap tappy.
Happy Father's Day coming up. It's good to be back.
There's too many stars to pick just one to wish on. Take a second to think about a wish you'd like to have come true, and maybe it'll go a bit something like this something I've got in mind. I've been thinking about the forgotten thoughts and doubts and realizations of my yesterday and last year plus two or three more, and for whatever and why ever it's worth anything, I'd wish for something magnificent to happen again and again in your life again and again until it gets old, until you get old and each new pair of dogs you buy die and die again. Perhaps, you'll find something worthwhile.
We're so much sleepier than we used to be. So drained, so strained, so uncreative. It's been a blast while it's lasted, but at last, perhaps it is time to quit. Quit running in circles looking for miracles. New things and new beams of light will ignite (the tender) and give us our sight. (Or at least I hope.)
Make that a mental note. Make a connection to their functions. (Parallel traits; perpindicular to the global eyesight) Take a look into the brainWINDOW. Take a book from the thoughtLIBRARY. Steal flimisy ideas. Craft a fort of implementation. Try hard. Try harder.
I'm currently tuned in; into something I've been listening out for and hearing in my sleep. I've become accustomed to your customs and your attitude(s). The news and the new ideas bounce off mine and your skull(s); ricochet back down the throat. Think of a voyage into the knowing unknown. Be willing to find a new home.
All the leaves are turning gray as your blue eyes were on me across the room watching the door close on my skull. I felt the thought weigh down on my feet as I sank to the bottom of your lung, filled with sand and water. (Escape.) Now floating to the surface of your eyelids to see your face turn left towards the bloodshot sky.