Find the lighter, use it as a lighthouse on a walk below the wall you watch along the wave-formations. Who Wants a Cold One? a Coors Light ad corrects.. When it comes to your home, the little things matter.. an insurance ad blares.. my computer is infected with 3rd party applications unremovable to my meagre tech-ability.. there is a hero as Joseph Campbell once theorized.. in myself like a sick bastardly virus waiting for moments to prove to me "I AM THE SAVIOR, I AM THE CHRIST, I AM THE WARLORD, MICE, MAN, AND VICE".. the windows of opportunity close, I am left waiting the door

& the elevator.

Thirty-thousand years ago, there was nothing but a breeze.. a viscous breeze across chill-spined pterodactyls.. warm-under-the-jungle-brush tyrannosaurus rex, and to think one day I will be just a legend in bone..
Charlotte said she thinks of death and so did Jen. They sat next to the all-you-can-eat and discussed the inevitable. I was sour and playful with no-will-to-understand, just reminding my hair of breezy summer days of 10, thinking of strangeness, of place I was in.

When it's quiet sometimes, I think of old dreams.. dreams I sunk below drown-level as a child in bed and belief. Both mommy and daddy were arguing in the kitchen, this was 7 or 8.. they argued so often one could hear mom begin to cry sometimes, and dad I could see in minds-eye with a grimace so closed and so creased he was hurt and yet honest.. I did not understand so I hid under-stood-silhouettes, oh adulthood..

once in dream I was in pulsing green graveyard like crayon realism strobe lights, tombstones all-round and faint-buzz of outside and one of those strange balded henchmen of badguy Jafar from Disney's Aladdin came peaking outta nowhere with curled eyebrow and baggy one-thousand-one Arabian nightlives parachute pants, curled toes brown-beige moccasins to.. he let out conniving 'HEUHEE!' and slapped me right-side cheek and I JOLTED up bedwise in real time to feel actual physical sting for a few lingered seconds then the sobs of poor mother outside.. I never remembered a dream so clearly again.. they all come, Pro-Found, and dizzy away after hour or two for rest of eternity or perhaps to Place I Can Visit at Death to Review Every Vision and I wonder... when your life flashes before your eyes and the light is encroaching, scenes of mother, brother, father, son, daughter, best-friend, party, break-up, heartbreak, slip-fall, first-sip, first-drag, last-leg, first-kiss, first-hit, first-game, fear, love,  HATE, wait.. do the Dreams come to? Are they all flesh-ed before your eyes as you pass into Light? Are they brought to direct remembrance as you cross the border with Passport of Gods and a Goddess (and which Picture appears on the Page)..?

I remember the old eczema taking bits of skin to carpets round-town and round-lower-mainland to disgust of friends old and new-- this was era where confidence ate itself in mirrors, the sober reality of ugly-ness chiseling away at my Goodness Attempts.. All That Pointless Pain was no Exception nor a Rule, it just **** Happens every once-and-again to the sound of life farting. I used to miss school for feet so impossible to walk on, pussing and bleeding and staining the sheets, shoe soles, carpets, and soul.. limp thru the hallways of Brooks Secondary feeling like bad flavor additive to multicultural Planet Earth-- sleeping 'til the bell rang drinking coffee singing songs I said '**** the ******* educational system and **** me I'm so flatlined..' someday I felt things would really get better and lucky young me I was right.

A half-decade later, I am 21 and hoping, floating, free in the breeze as the wings I have grown keep on wishing the subsistence down. The girl, whoever-she-might-as-well-be, sits immediately vertical chatting frantically to boy with a bit of a cowlick slouching on-up over a bundle of colored paperwork. It seems late in the season for homework, and assume they may have some affiliation with a crazy-hep computer design group in the tradition of Nouevau Silicon Valley.... I sit at my laptop, inching a word a million cubic millimeters closer to God or Divinity or Crescendo or A Bunch More ******* You'll End Up Ignoring---

It's a sunny day, the rain having slathered-off into obscurity somewhere with the Monsoons when the Sun gave the Moon a Soft Slap and the poor purity white-kid went off whimpering, bleeding nose-- I sat, the other night, playing another Grand Strategy game as Tom divided his time between a vaulted and damaged lover, his labor, and his life (friends, food, video-games, vice)... Chai, old Chai the Thai Guy mentioned past his nose in previous iterations of Depictions sat and described his pins-and-needles upset at his bosses at one his three many jobs.. desperately firing text-messages into receiving-space-panel and reflect and back unto Tom's smartphone dash asking him to order a six-pack from a local delivery service cuz his adrenal was giving him heartpain with hurt, and Tom being Busy as All-Ways Tom Is wasn't able to decipher the scramble in-time to make contact before closure of the liquor stores.. poor not-so-poor Chai at first felt castrated at realization he would miss the 11 PM dot-time, but didn't mind as he rendezvoused with Tom and I at Willows Beach where Tom reminded him of a whiskey he'd bought sitting counter-wise at his place.. we kissed a few Mary Janes rightsideup, dragging our butts in the sand to discuss what was wrong (each of us had a problem that night, save for perhaps a less-vocal Tom, I describing my annoyance that a lazy consensus had erupted in my sorry-hometown between my sorta-friends and friends-of-friends that my writing and sharing my writing was arrogant and I an arrogant *** for sharing and I just confounded that they would find my passions so trivial-- perhaps jealousy, perhaps complacency and judgement-for-lack-of-anything-better-to-do and ah **** em all if they think like that, I'll write and be the arrogant me they think I am and share 'til I'm blue in the face and dead perhaps for outspoken intellectualism in their autocratic pointless-waste worldviews.. sad that I dislike them only on the basis they disliked me first..)

I had planned to stay late and leave early-morn (5 or 6 AM) to catch a first-off morning bus back home and sleep, hoping for most part to avoid the shattered-***-mess of a home I was living in.
About 2 days ago, give or take, a water-line for the laundry machine had erupted to soak our entirely-carpeted basement suite, forcing the poor new landlord (a sweetheart of a man named Ron having just taken possession of the house from previous owner on May 1st and, it seems, left 'holding the bag' as they'd call it in day-trading-investment-lingo) to tear out the entirely-soaked carpet and replace it with sensible laminate flooring and rendering the entire suite virtually unlivable for indefinite-few-days and so for me work and friends and especially writing become a welcome reprieve to I, a first world Refu-Jeez.. us, so terribly-off I sip a latte near sunny panorama windows-so-clear-they're-not-there overlooking the crosses of Yates and Blanshard with European church of Gothic architectural style poking heedlessly into empty-open blue.. ironically and strangely there is a liquor store quite literally right next door, and's one I shop at often for its decent prices (God is Dead or Just Drinking to Cope with Sartre and Kierkegaard's Ultimate Thesis) (Kierkegaard especially '*** Kierkegaard seems a good and long friend of God the Almighty) (...I talk with such Judaeo-Christian Catholic rhetoric it never ceases to amaze myself as it bleeds to page..) (stranger thing is, tho, there is no beginning, no middle, no end.. you read or you are bored and either/or is just fine..)

There is some hypothesized crescendo-bliss Tech Singularity on the way in the try-dition of Ray Kurzweil and William Burroughs.. Oscar Wilde to.. (see The Soul of Man Under Socialism in essay-collect book De Profundis).. one day we will all be eternal happiness expressed in song and dance and LED erected-projections of Imperfect Universe (Our Imperfect Earth) with lives stuck on infinite repeat.. our idea of Paradise.. and for those with ability to remain rushed to cortisol (stress-the-best hormone) it will be Hell on Earth, so DRAB and THE SAME all the TIME and it's READ and it's WRITE and it's RIGHT.. the world runs faster with every passing day so desperate to discover the Globe is Flat so we can Hop Off the Other Side into what one might assume to be The Better Place.. elusively picking-up speed thinking 'closer now definitely closer now' unaware (or, secretly aware and unwilling to admit for what will one do when one cannot run?) they are Running in Circles Over and Over and Over and Over and Over Again... cannot take the hint in the fact the Pacific (same Pacific) has been crossed a hugeillion times, nor the same McDonald's in the Azores of Atlantic Portugal is the Same ******* McDonald's stopped-thru on the then-trillionth time last year... and all whilst the International Space Station remains muted up-above crossing 'round and 'round 'til the Jehovah'n Day of Judgement (Chris Hadfield now below with advice for how to run a little faster even blinded in one eye..) then there are the dying Prophets Predicting Industrial Collapse who preach upon the Mount of Internet Sinai Eternal and state "the world is now unsalvageable and we are all about to die.. if ever you wished to find Buddhistic Nirvanic Peace, now is the time so start meditating and imagine Death as New Life and Geopolitics as Game".. forever and ever and ever and ever.

It is only natural to find existence to be 'weird..' layered with Who's That's and giant What The ***** everywhichway you turn.. did it start in a Big Bang, will it end in a Big Crunch, Big Freeze, Big Bang.. ? all questions once ignored for certain ignorance and resurrected as questions concerning the Nature of the What The ***** (also known as 'Science').. and if it did start in a Big Bang, did I start in a Big Bang..? and if it does end in a Big Crunch, will I end in a Big Crunch..? am I a sudden flash of REAL in a Universe that isn't me..? or am I an entire Universe.. perhaps even more than that...? the questions pulse in youth like bad words or bullets. I once stayed up all-night thinking of infinity with my head soaring space-wise forever and ever and ever and I stopped in sudden panic thinking: I could lie here up all night and all day 'til the towered age of 37 (I was 14 at the time) and still be no further on the Universal Map than from thumb-tip-middle to thumb-nail so I wrapped up the attempt with a mix of fear and incredulity, went to school next-day exhausted and tried to explain it all to friends.. they got it, I suppose, but we were all 14 and played basketball instead (I imagined infinite-spinning-basketball on thumb of Michael Jordan).

It's always best describing life in form of Disembodied Poetics.. sure some Philistines won't understand '*** their minds are made of Clockwork, Digits, and Blockthought.. but the general psychic underly implied in all with human faculty will ring-a-ding-ding! and remember all such ancient thoughts and feels as forgotten as a child, locked away until the Spirit rose-up from a rosey thorn prickle to flower straight-up into a Rose! or so I hope as a one-of-many writers-- all of which will write so-as to speak on your behalf.. all floaty and marking a purpose.

Tired of being called names and listening to complaints from your partner because you snore at night?

But more than that, it is important to keep a check on your snoring as an excess of it can be an indicator of many diseases, one of them being sleep apnea, says Dr Kaushal Sheth, ENT surgeon, "People develop sleep apnea when their airway collapses partially or completely during sleep due to various medical conditions. This causes the oxygen levels in the blood to decrease and can be potentially life threatening when it becomes obstructive sleep apnea."

Elaborating on it further, Dr Jayashree Todkar, bariatric surgeon and obesity consultant says "Snoring is an indication of obstacles in a person's breathing. When excessive fat accumulates around the stomach, the lungs do not get ample space to expand when we inhale oxygen; this in turn leads to obstacles in the process of inhalation-exhalation."

However, there are many myths surrounding snoring which is a very common problem. To sleep better one must get rid of the myths that surround snoring and only accept the facts, says Dr Viranchi Oza, BDS as he gives us a lowdown of some stories around snoring:

Myth: Everybody snores, therefore it's normal.

Fact: Snoring is not a normal condition. Labelling it as 'normal' diminishes the seriousness of the condition. Snoring is not just about annoying your partner, it is a sign that the body is struggling to breathe properly during the night. Snoring on a frequent or regular basis has been associated with hypertension and can also be an indication of sleep apnea (pauses in breathing). Sleep apnea sufferers have been reported to have diminished gray cells in their brains, most likely due to the oxygen deprivation of untreated sleep apnea. If left untreated, sleep apnea increases the risk of cardiovascular disease over time. In addition, insufficient sleep affects growth hormone secretion that is linked to obesity. As the amount of hormone secretion decreases, the chance of weight gain increases.

Myth: Snoring only affects the health of the snorer.

Fact: Snoring doesn't just negatively affect the health of the person snoring, but also the health of the person lying next to them in bed. A typical snorer usually produces a noise that averages around 60 decibels (about the level of vacuum cleaner), but with some people this can reach 80 or even 90 decibels (about the level of an average factory). Sleeping with a partner who snores during the night has been shown to increase the blood pressure in the other person, which may be dangerous for their health in the long term. Snoring also causes the partner to have fragmented sleep and lose up to one hour of sleep

every night.

Myth: Snoring comes from the nose, so if I unclog my nose, my snoring will stop.

Fact: Having a stuffy nose can definitely aggravate snoring and sleep apnea, but in it's not the cause. A recent study showed that undergoing nasal surgery for breathing problems cured sleep apnea in only 10% of patients. Snoring vibrations typically come from the soft palate, which is aggravated by having a small jaw and the tongue falling back. It's a complicated relationship between the nose, the soft palate and the tongue.

Myth: I know I don't snore, or have apnea. I am fine.

Fact: Don't ignore your wife when she tells you that your snoring doesn't let her sleep. When a partner snores it is very difficult for the spouse to sleep. There are people who snore excessively and suffer from sleep apnea, but feel absolutely normal. However, snoring increases their risk of getting a heart attack and stroke. The only definitive way to prove that you don't have sleep apnea is by taking a sleep test. Screening questionnaires like the GASP or the Epworth have shown high reliability in identifying patient risk for sleep apnea.

Myth: If I lose weight, I'll cure myself of sleep apnea.

Fact: Sometimes. It's definitely worth trying, but in general, it's very difficult to lose weight if you have sleep apnea. This is because poor sleep aggravates weight gain by increasing your appetite. Once you're sleeping better, it'll be easier to lose weight. This is the one ingredient with many dietary and weight loss programs that's missing or not stressed at all. It's not enough just to tell people to sleep more.

Myth: Health problems such as obesity, diabetes, hypertension and depression have no relation to the amount and quality of a person's sleep.

Fact: More and more scientific studies are showing a correlation between poor quality sleep and insufficient sleep with a variety of diseases. Blood pressure is variable during the sleep cycle, however, interrupted sleep negatively affects the normal variability. Recent studies have shown that nearly 80% cases of hypertension, 60% cases of strokes and 50% cases of heart failures are actually cases of undiagnosed sleep apnea. Research indicates that insufficient sleep impairs the body's ability to use insulin, which can lead to the onset of diabetes. Fragmented sleep can cause a lowered metabolism and increased levels of the hormone Cortisol which results in an increased appetite and a decrease in one's ability to burn calories.

Myth: Daytime sleepiness means a person is not getting enough sleep.

Fact: Do you feel very sleepy even during the day despite the fact that you had a long night of proper sleep? Excessive daytime sleepiness can occur even after a person gets enough sleep. Such sleepiness can be a sign of an underlying medical condition or sleep disorder such as narcolepsy or sleep apnea. Please seek professional medical advice to correctly diagnose the cause of this symptom.

Myth: Getting just one hour less sleep per night than needed will not have any effect on your daytime functioning.

Fact: This lack of sleep may not make you noticeably sleepy during the day. But even if you've got slightly less sleep, it can affect your ability to think properly and respond quickly. It can compromise your cardiovascular health and energy balance as well as the ability to fight infections, particularly if the pattern continues. Lack of sleep has also been associated with road accidents (up to 60% of road accidents involve lack of sleep) and air crashes (Air India Mangalore plane crash in 2010 was due to lack of sleep). Sleeping for less than six hours a night is equivalent to legal levels of alcohol intoxication.

Myth: Sleep apnea occurs only in older, overweight men with big necks.

Fact: Although the stereotypical description does fit people in the extreme end of the spectrum, we now know that even young, thin women that don't snore can have significant obstructive sleep apnea. Sleep apnea begins with jaw structure narrowing and later involves obesity. It's estimated that 90% of women with this condition are not diagnosed. Untreated, it can cause or aggravate weight gain, depression, anxiety, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, heart attack and stroke.

Myth: Snoring can't be treated.

Fact: Have you given up on your snoring thinking that it cannot be treated? There are many different options for treating snoring.

Some treatment options are rather drastic, possibly requiring surgery or prescription drugs, but prior to exploring such options it would be wise to first seek out alternative treatments. You must visit a sleep specialist to get the right diagnosis.

Myth: Extra sleep at night can cure you of problems with excessive daytime fatigue.

Fact: Not only is the quantity of sleep important but also the quality of sleep. Some people sleep eight-nine hours a night but don't feel well rested as the quality of their sleep is poor. A number of sleep disorders and other medical conditions affect the quality of sleep. Sleeping more won't alleviate the daytime sleepiness these disorders or conditions cause. However, many of these disorders or conditions can be treated effectively with changes in behaviour or with medical therapies.

Myth: Insomnia is characterised only by difficulty in falling asleep.

Fact: There are four symptoms usually associated with insomnia:

- Difficulty falling asleep

- Waking up too early and not being able to get back to sleep

- Frequent awakenings

- Waking up feeling tired and not so fresh

Insomnia can also be a symptom of a sleep disorder or other medical, psychological or psychiatric problems. Sometimes, insomnia can really be a case of undiagnosed sleep apnea.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

A strange kind of intrusive ambiance; voices in several languages, forced laughter, technological functioning; human activity intermarried with machines. The volume rising perfectly in sync with my cortisol levels, I interrogate  my past for signs of the path that led me here; it remains blurred. I did not dream of working in customer service; but here I am regardless, moments of my life that I will never ponder again; a cascade of  the present moment repeating as long as my employment contract exists. An event-less horizon, memories are stillborn here and true ingenuity stifled. There is much and nothing that has led me here. It is hard not to feel like a horse bred for performance in this place; everything is monitored, quantified, reviewed and collaborated. Performance reports produced with the fervor of medieval scholars translating the bible.  I look to the sky, what else is there to do; only to see smoke alarms and aesthetically neutral lighting arrangements. There is art work on the walls, but is generic, created to defy analysis. The colouring of the walls is chosen to exude a neutral sort of trendiness; on brand for the overarching corporate image.

Kisses
His lips
Stained red from cherry lip-gloss and his skin still damp from midnight lust.
Our arms and legs lay tangled beneath the stars.
These are the good nights
The, Nightmare, Night terror
Free nights.
Filled with burnt out cigarettes and hushed tones.
These are the nights
That push the cortisol from my mind to be replaced by a
Cheap serotonin fix.
These nights are my lullabies and goodnight
Kisses
His lips
Push their way against my squirming flesh, my tongue too tied to protest.
His hands caress,
My arms and legs. twisted behind locked doors.
These are the restless nights
Tossed and turned like mildewed clothes
Filled with empty cups and muffled moans.
These are the nights-- I’m sorry
The nights I pray for sunrise
Kisses.
Her lips
Find their way to my worried ear, stroking, Hushing.
“It’s okay baby girl mama’s here.”
Shhhhh.
These nights are long nights
When my legs are restless from running through my head,
Monsters,
Hiding underneath my bed.
These nights are filled with screams, they
Strangle my throat, and Chills prickle my spine but
These nights are saved
By her forehead
Kisses

Am I really someone special?
Of course you are
How do you know
You're special to me
What does that mean?
You make my heart beat
You make my pulse pulse
Isn't that special
That's just adrenocorticotropic
**** we're more than just cortisol
Are we though? What makes us more?
You can think to ask that question
So what who can't
You make my epinephrine spike babe
Thanks, my endocrine glands are addicted to you
Don't worry about it, we're just sacks of meat
Hehe flesh bags coursing with chemicals
Right, your thoughts are just electricity
You're a battery, a light bulb and a RC car
You're a self guided drone with no master
You're sweet, lets go recharge
Powering down the fleshy prison
See you in day 9101 of my imprisonment
See you in the fourth dimension
You're right see you there first
You are special
You too

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I

I am Ann, Anna, Annastasia
confined, confounded in her own fantasia

roll over doggie under my car
oh i'm sorry, i meant it
she told me, when she told me
i had to obey
a rubber stamp and electric nodes
shock, convulse and make me sway
oh make the voices go away!

II

Smashy smashy Annie
throw mummy's good flower pots
over the wall into the yard
weee it'll be so much fun
come out and play Annie!

III

You naughty girl, stand in the corner and
think about what you've done
what did I tell you about listening to your mother?
bad girl, strike yourself
iron out the creases in your fingers

but mummy, they told me , I had no choice

IV

Tut-tut Anastasia
what did i tell you about listening to your father?
trickle tears down your face
remind yourself you are a disgrace
with little grasp of good taste

You sickening little troglodite,
shower yourself cold in the dark

V

One would be so wisest of oneself, Anastasia
thereby present yourself as loyalty
pray hildegarde you navigate yourself correctly
i suspect your remuneration would be pitiful
exentuate those dentalized Ts and Ds
and for Julius' sake
mind your Ps and Qs

VI

Cease, desist, Anna
Regard yourself from your heart's eye,
be nice, be humble
lest you want to cry, *****!


VII

I can't I can't
someone help me
she's pulling my hair, ouch!

'Stop squealling for attention!'
her friends sneer,
'Better off talking to yourself Ann!'

VIII

I can't help my impulses, they meticulously
humiliate my ego and my sanity
with crude, latent vulgarity
thrown off course with profanity


'oh clumsy me,' pipped Ann,
I'm a clumsy, heavy strumpet,
I'm a couplet short of a sonnet!'

IX

hush hush hush
the booming voice chides,
'Still, Anastasia, soothe your spirit.
be calm, and play some poker
by your uncle's fireplace
you'll be a good girl,
if you hit your brother.'

X

oh cry cry all for Ann
lost for words at her chamber pan
licking the bowl clean
as her mummy told her
sweet, if not
then she would scold her.

XI

'Annie Annie, long of face
won the Ascot horses race.'

'Heaven forefend Anastasia, straighten up and shoulders back!
you'll get rickets so far gone, you please no man but the crickets!'

'****** off those others Anna and listen to me,
forget about you mummy, daddy and any, all authority.'

'Stupid Ann, drown yourself in turpentine
and stub your nose like the common swine.'

'Now remember Anna dear, no cherry trifle
until you've  boxed your sister's shins.'

'Leave me, please, I'm begging, bereave me!
leave me, please, I'm praying, release me!'

XII

Poor Ann whose been afflicted
by personality, conflicted
of her own thoughts, convicted
a most grievous war of minds
betray her deepest common senses
violate her fidelity by bathing in slop and pig feed
degenerate her innocence through foul revolt and tantrums
lest she cannot restore herself from her inner sanctum

XIII

Setting hard concussions, Anna threw a hammer at her temple,
in all hopes to knock it down.
Running low on cortisol
she burst her fleshy, brunette crown
letting all the fluid spew upon her
agonisingly, she writhed in settling timely
for a brutal death is less sinister
than eternity in sanity

If I could make the sound of cortisol
pumping through my veins,
it would sound like quarantine

Empty, but full of fear
Tired, but unable to stop moving
Alone, but surrounded by whispers

And here I am, stressed
about homework

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 6, 2015)

That a person in a group has diminished recall for the words of others who spoke immediately before himself, if they take turns.

Ahh! Too embarrassing to be outed
after all those years of hiding in the rows—
papers,  books, cards and other marks
clutched in the palm.  Living the future,
rehearsing the future, sweating
praying, fearing and flight,
cortisol levels askew, constricted breathing,
being ****** before there are even stones.

Every act is David Lynch sacking Twin Peaks,
weirdly showstopping and hard to follow.
It’s knee-**** narcissism, mortified
survival so common it’s a mental case
listed on the Internet.  

Did you think it was just you?
Silly goose.  

Breathe in the air of a slower fear,
listen to sound of listening,
notice all the room’s clutching hands.
Breath in cycles of three until you see
where you are now and appreciate
where you will be next, breathing,
listening and noticing, then
there you were, too.

1)
Here in the dark where rules don't exist
Gravity slips my wrist to your hips
And your kiss like Soma lay burned on my lips
Sudden a slight, subtle physical gesture
So foreign to think of it - only conjecture
Alluring, your posture bent into mine first

2)
Unable to think, unable to breathe
Unable to reason rational reasons for such indulgence
So known was he to penitence
So unknown was this dream
And that, it was a dream
Cortisol surging, testosterone flowing, epinephrine...surely would split his mind at the seam, and end this cruel romantic dream

3)
Soma to touch her
Soma to feel her
Nothing to know, and none left to sow
Soma to see her
Soma to hear her
When won't it last? When will it go?
Soma to think
Soma to dream
Forever unknowing
Forever I'll be

i've been ignoring it
stress seeping
in trembling airways
effects of cortisol

i've been ignoring it
subtle shaking of breath
once constant, once confident

i've been hiding
from a heart hurt
unaccomplished goals became looming dreams again

but like Rome I will pick myself up
I will piece myself together
from resilient rubble
and a blank blueprint
become a beautiful mosaic

Now is the time.
Because I've been ignoring it.
Ignoring it all too long now.

The glistening snow sweats off the arms of the woods,
The sun's warmth challenges the breeze,
But the breeze knows how to get under my skin,
The sun can only touch gently on the surface.

And another thing: my mind is at ease,
But it must be arousing to knead an angel in the doughy snow,
Rather than ******* my boots, pack up my book bag,
And to tune out the rest, put on my headphones,
Playing songs to keep me stuck inside my head.

Rather than grinding equations,
Taking notes,
Inspecting writing,
Instead of analyzing one of these,
I'd like to read glowing literature for my heart's sake.

The best days begin and end like this.
These days tranquilize me,
Sequester cortisol from my brain,
And quell thoughts of then,
thoughts of tomorrow, thoughts of today,
thoughts of when, thoughts of who,
thoughts of why, thoughts of how,
thoughts of you.

So since you aren't here to feed my soul,
And I can't read in this city's wretched cold,
I'll tuck myself inside my bed,
And burn my eyes on my phone screen instead.

Another day, another existential crisis
Stress releases cortisol which leaves the body lifeless
Working on my posture, getting twisted in fine print
Spending moments for money doesn't feed the idea of timeless
Baking in the sun, not having fun, I quit.
Not sure exactly when it was that my mind split
I refuse to die without expressing my gift
Or curse, to disperse words even when they hurt in bursts.  A surging splurge that can take away my energy.
Not sure if I'm my best friend or worst enemy
Coincidentally the mental fees are a mix between too heavy and really aint ****.
But it's been a long time since I believed in coincidence.  Time to change the skit - redirect focus from the cobweb tombs to flowers in full bloom.  I am one with the sun but currently resonate with the moon.  This distance is true, but I'll come back and love loudly again sometime soon.  Better make it now, why wear a head full of dread when a smile is more profound?  Better make it now.
*breathes

butterknives lithe.
garbage disposal yoga.
oger cortisol dump.

i guess i'll jus eat my teeth now
and face me.

heartmaw
must

feed.

i have no reason
-or imagination-
anymore

to
stay

here.

not really..

----- pls feel all the feels for me.
this melo d is real,

i swear.

my torn tears tear
down this face
encased in rusty bladelace.

yours diaphanously,
mememe.

its so
*******
sad

I see things I can’t make sense of
I strive to be with attributes that don’t exist
I meet gunners every day.

I try to find happiness in the most caffeinated liquids.
But the light never shines and cannot be found
My darkest suspicions is that it’s been buried underground.

Not only can I not find a shovel but I also lack the energy to dig.
I’m feeling so empty.
Drained with nothing to give.

And there’s nobody to reach out to.
Flailing limps, discerning manic.
I can’t escape this attack.
Cortisol levels rising

And

I

Begin

To

Panic.

Details of now, surface of ever.

Step, as we may, step away, on a way
from
to

Details of now, magnified, made nearer
to see,
to learn.
Ifery and wasery, wondered, wandered

upto, but not beyond, go
think that which holds the heavens,
a bubble, eh,
must be,
edge-less, inside, so smooth, smooth as
air,
I dare say, air is smooth, breathed easy,
calm, cold or hot,
air, is smooth, this surface of mind, this
is rough.

Pitted, adolescent greasy fifties happy
fashion engine, rewind,
take us back to when Ike and ****, gripped
the winds of change,
in signals so mysterious, we wonder if we saw,
the signs saying,
turn or burn,

and thought, what the hell, truth
is related to me, I cannot prove a lie.

I can say, virtually literally, true as such can be,
I can say there is no hell and we can't breathe
in heaven as conceived, beyond the stars,
or at least, past Mars,

ah, when all the world had, say,
a number, ten thousand, or so, say
science, prescience, right fore thought,

a story rises, from a word, that was a name,
first presented to me,
forethought was a god de-ifier, resistor of the bit
part, seeing the whole,
part seen is deception, to any who wished at then

to know, only to know, edge of knowing,
stood, stare, seeing we being a whole generated
mind, in lines linking one thing
to another,
in ever after birth, before death, now, as we imagine.

We think the wind a wonderous thing,
the mixture of elements we breathe and have
our native being in, & we have our post-natal first
known, ah, breathe,
air, this is the wind we wondered
through momma eyes, maybe,
I guessed, just guessed, instant-
iate a probability,
set a whatif, then

else
I laugh and douse the flames of cortisol,
thinking you may feel this wind,
next week, it meanders, and
may linger in New England,
delivering the requests

question everything, but wait, wait, listen
answers cost attention, not to mention
understanding, beyond - as in through,
which my kind plants as great crops
to make peace with,
as we burn through the opposition,
like mental hot coals.

Re learning to live, as once we lived when we all
knew, innocently, presumptively, knew
enough is always enough to share,
died, and we noticed
dying is easy, and
that much, that extent of declared, I know
dying is easy, is true, because none, once the
resistance
removes the lie that lingers as hell to pay, while
little grey Domeanies squeeze the truth
from me,
a sufficiency, enough to prove my reconciliation.

Mist drifts amidst tall trees -
Above cool, clear blue pools
And grass splattered with dew.

We too should stay so cool:
Composed and rational even in a duel.
Forget adrenaline
And lose that Cortisol.
Ever see a dog or cat work out
Or do press-ups?
Watch those animals relax
And sleep:
Only springing up when something happens.

Avoid those fiery rages
As much as you can.
Steer clear of hell
With all its fury and flames
And violent eruptions.

Give me a golden pint
Of ice-cold brew.
Any beer will do.
Even without such help
Let us calm our hearts,
Lay back and relax
Even fall asleep for a while.
For we have earned
Our quiet hours
Amongst those misty trees.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\6\2018.

I say again –
Fear has a vital function.
Without it our ancestors would have been eaten
By lions or sabre-toothed tigers.
We need it so survive
A terror attack
Or any physical threat.

Yet in modern days even mild anxiety
Has little use:
Filling us with Cortisol and Stress.
We are like rabbits in headlights,
Paralysed with worry
Over those exams and other tasks.

We must not Fear or fret.
As Frank Herbert said in “Dune”
We have to face our fears
And let them pass over and through.
For only we will remain.
We must stay Mindful
Of the here and now
And let the future take care of itself.

So I will not do Fear
Of any kind
Unless that **** or terrorist appears
And even then
I will try my best
To keep my cool.

Be clinical
Rather than angry
For Anger is the cousin of Fear
And only any use
When you rationally decide
To attack.

In short
Do not Do Fear
Or Anger
Unless you really have to.

Paul Butters

© PB 18\6\2018.

Cortisol

Caffeine
Nicotine
Morphine

Endorphin
Seratonin
Dopamin­e

Cortisol

It was a delayed effect,
Slow enough to leave John and the rest to her devices,
Even empowered as they were, song had its limits,
Each found themselves entangled, disarmed and held high into the air,
John was fondest toy, brought in intimately close for a rendezvous,
Andulan caressed him lovingly, ******* in knots as he was, he couldn't resist,
As she bit into his unblemished neck.
Kevin dropped in, riding ****** adrenaline that gave him measure,
Intoxicated by cortisol that nullified his immediate pain,
He and Paul shrugged off numerous gashes to the arms, legs and chest,
Each was stabbed in a near fatal area near their hearts,
But it didn't stop Kevin from cutting him free from Andulan's grasp,
Nor did it prevent Paul from pressing his trident up to her throat,
To bring her down breathless and weakened.

Traumatized
Post Traumatic Stress
Most of us
got it

Cortisol fear screaming through
our blood stream
Seeing or being something
people never should be

Adrenal Dumps
Road rage

Meltdowns in the
five to eight shot
morning or evening
it doesn't matter

Memories traveling
on the light of the day
scents floating in the air
the music
A ****** expression
in a crowd

Holding on tight
Jumping out of our
skin

Embarrassment
Feelings of rejection
Than rage

How to handle it today?

The walking wounded
walking on parade
no point in going to the circus
when we are the circus

Maybe it's always been,
What do they say,
The human condition
is the condition
we're in

If we do it right
maybe
(there's)
(next time)
another way
to get it right.

all the cells
in my body
dance in
u n i s o n
to the story
on your lips

my heart beats
to the rhythm
of your hands
on my hips

when you
l a u g h
i can feel
my cortisol
levels dip

and for
a moment
i swear that
you & i
are all that
e x i s t

Do peaceful moments just come of their own accord?
How much influence does stimuli have on contentment?
Cant be purely chemical.
Serotonin, cortisol, norepinephrine.
Like everything in life.....trying to find a balance with far to many variables.
An educated guess. A fun chemistry experiment, this life.
States of mind...

High levels of cortisol,
limbic system taking control.
All this stress
leaves me a total mess.

So much studying left do
and I still have no clue.
mental breakdown makes weep,
I know i'm not getting any sleep.

I am strained
and my energy is drained.
I've got a headache
and really need a break.

We fall in love with looks exchanged
Though some say it's not really love
We fall in love with peoples voices
Forgetting their other traits.

In every grey cityscape,
In every tired estate
Love triumphs quietly
Above decibels of hate.

In every steel Metropolis
Drowning in inequality,
Exists temporal understanding
Between wealth and poverty.

The weary travellers too,
Worn down by years of routine
Smile behind closed doors,
Raging with the chemical joy.

The eyes which glow back at us
Engulf us in molecular adoration,
Like fires catching from kindleling
Melting the rough corners of our day.

Life can make fools of all of us,
But to be fooled is to live.
No masterpiece was crafted
Without painful risk.

And how I came to know
Your glare was meant for mine?
The pains I feel from inequality
Become more secondary.

Just seconds of your laughter
Sweep years of cortisol away.
Overiding the purpose of my soul
For those profound moments of the day.

The joyous glowing of your eyes
Craft a neuro-masterpiece,
As equal measures of dopamine,
And oxytocin ignite my zelous glare.

That glowing behind your eyes
Tells me, it's your soul and mine.
That acceptance of ourselves as fools
In love, is the only escapism I need.