1. I’m climbing hills today in one, effete poet’s way they could be metaphors for all sorts of ‘big life things’ but in another, my belly is about to give my knees some trouble
2. The sepia on this one’s different there was sometimes bitterness in steps made here as the lure of the theme park rides sat so near but the years have done a lot to replace the roller coaster thrill with the heart weight of hills, dales and rivers with tales to tell
3. You remember I mentioned the metaphor? And the belly troubling the knees? Well these things came to pass as I hauled my carcass up the hill turning the air blue
The metaphor? Decisions that once were natural, easy like breathing now can feel laboured, burdened when a step is placed how can I be sure the ground will hold?
Even at the peak, where I once could exhale at the majesty of a job well done I’m now fraught with the thought of the journey down
4. This river is different at home the stream accompanies me on local walks, showing me the known and keeping my chin up
Here, the bold broadness of the river hides secrets and speaks in a deeper tongue coarse fish, familiar to me are replaced by those that anglers prize
I am both lost and a little more alive
5. Looking into the faces of teenagers dressed for town centres, either striding ahead or shambling behind parents intent on extolling the virtues of fresh air and nature while feeling strangely out of breath at the climb
closer in, the adolescent eyes show a plethora of emotion contempt, depression, longing utter conviction that life is happening somewhere, anywhere else
but if I may offer some advice: relent as in a few blurred years you’ll succumb to the same fossilisation and will need some routes to remember
The world doesn’t know it needs setting right but we do it anyway against bucolic backgrounds, corners of this sceptered isle known only to types who like to ramble
point to point meticulously planned by his draughtsman’s hand our mouths and minds driving us more than legs words to square away despair at the world or delight in some magical new tech to save it
these are footsteps I’ve always followed always will despite a mardy heel drag in my teenage years the muscle memory - one foot, then the other - cannot be unwritten even as knees now complain otherwise
im overcome with the need to reinvent myself and confess everything to everyone, to become so open that im bleeding out every secret ive ever had to keep all over the linoleum floor, but second thoughts stitch me back together with needles made of words meant to cut, whittled down thin enough to fit just underneath the skin, pulling gashes in my skin together with online threads about checking up on your friends that everyone reads and nobody listens to, performative pieces that people regurgitate to make you think they care but they dont, because we're too busy worrying about ourselves to think of anybody else. we're conceited by nature, reverse narcissists kneeling by a river, scrutinizing our reflections, searching, aching for imperfections so we can say "look at how horribly ugly i am and pity me". we're too proud to be pitiful and too pitiful to have any pride, paradoxical advertisements of lonely people too scared to ask for love.
my hands are shaking and my mind is buzzing and if this makes any semblance of sense to you then I am so terribly sorry.
i chugged an energy drink before spanish class and came up with this mess of metaphors. enjoy.
you have shattered my heart into pieces yet my love for you increases i’ve got to have some diseases to be sick enough and accept this fate to bottle up all the words i ate and not feel hate but to wait for you to feel the same in this sick sad game
The unparalleled serenity Of a misty mountain top, That made me stop Right in my tracks As I was rambling on, With a haze of clouds surrounding I gazed at the top. The winds of surrender The sounds of thunder Had me shook Before that first breath That I took With surreal beauty in front, Of which I was always in the hunt The desolate hilltop, Is where I wanted to start a bonfire The exquisite brisk of solitude Was rather great to set the mood Nature is very welcoming, I pondered That is when it hit me We are all connected, Through some invisible wire. We fail to see that, Because we are all prisoners of our desires. What a perfect recluse to try and find my muse.
Natural intervention in life is essential, especially when you love exploring the mountains. It's about finding yourself amidst the mountains.
A truth did I find Though in all truth I was not the fist to give it mind Many before me have found What I am about to expound That is that most look upon suicide as a victimless crime While in truth it is the opposite and kills all at one time For it insults all creation It puts down every relation It ends all for that person And commands all to darken By putting out their life They quench all life By saying they are done with the world They declare themselves better than all the world And though they accuses their behavior by some emotion It does not justify their horrendous notion For the ****** claims the same excuse But they do this to no use Tell me know, Does this make sense? Or should I, my rambling, dispense?
I hide beneath the rock like a salamander clings to streamside stones once I held one against my thumb, on my palm it squirmed the universe in its veins and without a word I returned it home to moss green and rain-guzzling grass, my three-year-old white Nike’s flooded and cracked mud seeping through the soles.