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fucking disgusting.

take some time to count, to verb some syllables for some wrecked page. a Lostman's book in scat- tered thought; nature, and death, and sole body. then, when she talked about her better years as those of drug-induced past-life. younger than yesterday kinda years. that which finds metronome slowing, the Universe energy vibrating weaker while growth found in apathy, and solid death of purposeful movement.                          then a shot, that moment to break from wretched self- criticism -- that post-idyllic criticism -- that which hinders forward movement.            the shot, which finds contentedness thru some repetitious mentality . .                                                  [lost it]          . . repetitious fallacy?               [got it] let's leave some break for transmigration in thought to prelude of forward movement. understanding now is not enough; but agreement in hast. but dissolution to that self- efface hit rapid. brought back, her thought of the younger than yesterday years; now, now is the greatest point of any a count- less past-life. from them, no matter a sweating season, the Long Dark, or the cycle-seasons,              all is now. and never did she or i talk of the past again.                    our foci,         [one second] drawn to point of second and next second upon following and on for another. now, shivery wine-drunk, reminiscent of tiny furnace and woolen blanket apartment. that now, that was true striving of second successful Opium Den.         a great thought downfall; she's been long gone.             [next second now] she complained of the wind. her eyes were freezing, she said; her life has begun to bore her, she said. we moved to playground and climbed in the slide; a nice dampening. cold plastic barely felt for her. this Long Dark, and in it, an always fleeting warmth.                  [break                         to piss for concision in thought] now then, a diner, of course this face is known. they also know a companion vacant. asked of, pleasant enough; responded, well enough.        [disheartened, well enough] and then, wholly intrinsic with a blasphemous self- Oralee while passing time trying to think. unable, if only for sole point of trying. and epochs worth, thought and gone; now compulsive, now unres- ponsive, now chewing lips because they're part gum.
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Written by
townsendfm
Moroccan
Published
Feb 18, 2016
Lines·Words
57·357
Permission

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