I'm sorry if things would come out so wrong
It's just that I've loved you for oh so very long
I don't know how I should interact
Or how I should come to react
I'd stutter like I'm a big dork
I make worse conversations than that of a fork
But it's because I'm just charmed by your smile
I guess it's my way to stay with you for a while
I keep my distance, not because I want a good bye
But it's just that.. Well.. I'm way to shy
I get all shaky when our shoulders would touch
It's probably because I've longed for that so much
You must know what you do to me when our hands would simply touch
If happiness were a grading system, I'd be at the top notch
So please don't be weirded out by how I am
I'm trying to be normal with the best that I can
I'm awkward, shy but oh so very kind
and *you're the only girl who's in my mind

My ******
When I asked you what part of me was sexiest, that's what you said.

It weirded me out at first.
I mean,
I have a nice ***.
Great ****.
Good hips.
Vaginas are icky.
They smell and leak gew and blood.
But I don’t know,
now I like it.
I love the fact that you love it.

Maybe because it's the most intimate part of my body.
No one's wanted that part of me before.
No one's touched me like you touch me,
kissed me where you kiss me.
It’s deeper with you,
and I guess that's because
you love me

When I asked you what part of me was sexiest, that's what you said.

It weirded me out at first.
I mean,
I have a nice ***.
Great ****.
Good hips.
Vaginas are icky.
They smell and leak gew and blood.
But I don’t know,
now I like it.
I love the fact that you love it.

Maybe because it's the most intimate part of my body.
No one's wanted that part of me before.
No one's touched me like you touch me,
kissed me where you kiss me.
It’s deeper with you,
and I guess that's because
you love me

ME: She destroyed me and everything that I held onto. She drove me to suicide so many times and she didn't care. She just kept making my world darker and darker and she didn't stop. I tried suicide last night. I'm alone and I can't keep trying to live. I'm honestly done.
NATALIE: What did she do to you!
ME: She took/turned all my friends, even family against me. She bullied and harassed me. She just destroyed me by doing whatever the Hell she wants to with people's emotions.
NATALIE: Don't **** yourself! I'm sorry, was I part of it?
ME: When you were crushing on Kennedy, on her, I knew you would push me away and you kind of did... You're the only reason why I'm still here today. but I know that if I asked you out, you would say no...
NATALIE: Ali I care and love you..... if you hurt yourself that would hurt me too. If I made you sad I'm sorry, really, really sorry.
ME: I self-harm. Have since I was seven... I'm sorry. now you'll hate me because of it.
NATALIE: I DON'T HATE YOU! NEVER WILL! I don't care about your mistakes
ME: But you and I won't ever end up together. Would we?
NATALIE: Why wouldn't we? When do you move ..
ME: I have no idea when I'm gonna move. I'll be here for 9th grade. You're way too good for me anyways. That's why I thought you and I wouldn't end up being a couple. Am I wrong?
NATALIE: yes
ME: So what are you saying???
NATALIE: I'm not sure. Don't take that the wrong way ..
ME: I already can tell that you are way too beautiful, smart, cute and amazing for me. If I told you I loved you more then anything else in the world, you would be weirded out.
NATALIE: No I wouldn't.
ME: Dude, trust me, I'm never going to be with you, you're just being nice to me.
NATALIE: Shut the **** up. JK. But really...

The pub under the hands of some fellow madmen and
my divorce already in the works I set out cause why sit around a place and be misreble when ya can be heartbroken and drunk off your ***
somewhere else.

That and and my new wifes boyfriends were stealing all the dam covers
dam you Dallas Cowboys.

The trunk looked as if i had ran over a drug dealer and knocked over a liquor store ****** had i been sleep walking again?
There was uppers downers wild turkey and beers chips dips chains and whips oh my.

Yes this would be a journey that would test the limits and like a boozed up college girl.
On a ******* video would expose many
things for a T shirt  and a chance to make dad proud and kinda weirded out at the same time being he was trying to have some alone time to ummm   do some deep thinking  and touch apon  well yeah.
But enough with the foreplay children.

I was loose apon the highway bound for the place of true insanity
home to killer thieves perverts and the rest of my family.

Knotts Island N.C. is but a small island off the Virginia border
but remeber kids it's not the size of your island that counts.
or at least thats what your girlfriend tells ya cause secretley she's
******* half the state of texas  but hey who's bitter.    
  
Yes there was a smell of outdoor fires corn whiskey maybe
some organic  umm tabaco  that was green and Dr Jerry  had prescribed to me for my vision although i still couldnt see ****
but after awhile who gives a **** I never liked that guy anyways.

So after dumping the body in the marsh i had arrived.
Home where i could smell the microwave pizza burning cause mom
was to busy  helping 16 year old Brain  with his homework.
Yeah public schools ****** good thing Momma Gonzo loved to teach
and who better to teach *** ed than the town *****.

After there session had ended there we stood.
John how the **** are ya  you little *******?
Well it was a moment of only true gonzo  understanding and after are usal  conversation like hey did ya bring a bottle? And hey are we related?
And hey mom do ya think ya could  put on some clothes cause its kinda awkward im just saying.

We laughed we cried we turned on the tv and watched are family reunion on jerry springer ahh memories all alone in the moonlight.
Hey mom great left hook you really showed that ***** although
grandma did put up a hell of a fight.

We drank my mother knew her little Gonzo was hurting
and so we spoke over ten, tweenty cases of wild turkey.
Well son did ya pay her after ***?
She wasnt that kinda ***** mom.
What a stupid ***** hell she could at least made some money i mean really though look at you.

Thanks ya heartless *****.
Your welcome honey.
Going home it really reminds ya why ya left and went in the witness protection program to start with.

And looking at my okay kinda perverted lush of a mother I relized
****** no wonder im ****** up.

We drank talked I relived the old times as i held
her hair as she puked.
then she spoke to my heart once worried me that just maybe she had finally drank herself sane.

Ya know son sometimes people's are just a plain pain in the ***
but no matter what mom always loves you.
But ya gotta leave cause the Hells Angles are coming over
and you know your uncles Skull and Eightball still are a little sore
over the whole   you turning state witness thing.

Yes the thought of getting drug behind a mottorcycle for a few miles till your flesh was ripped from your bones really did sound like a downer.

So as I hugged my slighty weird kinda crazy okay perverted demmented  hell of a gal i called mom goodbye.
I realized the journey had just begun and Mexico was a calling i needed a save place to relax  and where better to than a semi insane drug cartel controlled  country  hey but other than that it was swell.

As I herd the chopper's apraoching
And had to ask for my wallet back now mom.
Really i havent fell for that since highschool  when we were on are double date at the prom.
i know what your thinking the Gonzo clan are nuts and momma Gonzo really shouldnt had me at such a young age but she was very mature at 13 and corn whiskey and football teams  happen.

Hey she said suprized looking at the pic thats Skeeter?
Umm  yes.
Hey can I have her number?
Ahh family moments.
And as I sped away like some
hyped up teenage girl  after there God Justin Beiber.

I thought well no matter where the road takes me  
as long as I have the blood of that  lush, perverted,kinda insane,southern bell in my veins it will always be second nature to forever stay crazy.

Walking around Widener bookstore
   Brown bag 40oz in grip on the first floor
Hurricane
my life and future funneled life a twister whimsical whirlwind
down the hatch guzzle guzzle. Oh, Christie! How are you!? can you see I am a mess? I know Youtell my Chinese girlfriend from our study abroad you saw me a mess in the bookstore. SHe is now heartbroken in chongquing. see ah ha
later im just returning books to get dope money.
LAter

Oh, I see you are stocking that Stranger Camus
Langston Hughes
English 102
I drift in my own “end of summers night”
still dreamin’
still falllin’
   Dropping, stumbling, the house of German exchange professors
   Sequestered on speed *****
Welcome to Chester

Corpse exquisite
  the Bride resides in physics-compartmentalized-drawers
  hiding refuge from the storm

He was Alone

                             ( Most of the time he got weirded out easily)

The terrifying teeth chatter into the crimson lips of a wound up smile, chattering along the very risen table top that draws all small toys to their finite dooms. While breaths sour hour upon hour, each idling ear suffocates the last gasping breaths of its epicurean syllabic tongue, drizzling down the stomach like melt water from a cubic glacier in an ornamental silver tub, and sternly quibbles the stem-like dactyls drawing rose champagne into a fissure of the brain's tumescent humming.

Each finger tips' nail rouge and red, each dry crevice sewn into the knuckles, and a leaflet on sadism near the scratchy illegible lines whittled on the topside of the wrists and the slalom runs of the ankle. The ankle sinister. The ghost-like hallow sockets of where eyes could have once be seen. Plaster and albicant-like dying death white skins forbade from the Flushing streets where the jazz dance once began. And with each nellypotted hop, three useless nuisances could not carry the bridle towards each nearly favorite sound that curiosity enslaved man to lean towards.

The women weirded out by corners, plastic-wrapped furniture in outdoor corridors, where sinners veil their retreats into state run triage centers. Fake plastic countertops built from fake plastic trees. With an M14's muzzle stiffening and shuttering, she who vents off her cured romances will always find herself flaccid on rubber knees. The disease of the plea, is once more an affectation of not falling for royalty but instead the royal we. There is this weapon of fraud that perplexes geneticists, that enslaves heterosexuals, where albeit nor the time or place, she venerates the libations that her mind creates, she lubricates her cells, dressing, her skin ripening, heaven trickling across her humble nape, where gentleness is only a fool's disease and need.

She. We. Heathens of eternity bowing our breaths in grand hyperbole see. I see she, and she sees me.

inappropriate laughter from caches

of silence--

contextually disembodied.

weird people weirded out,

the pressing matter of face-economy.

stuck to its numbing anesthetic, the

unnaturalness of skin snubbing skin.

while on friendly terms.

I picked a grape, from a cluster at a deli
you know…to sneak a taste before I buy
A lady scorned, “yuck, ain’t that dusty?”,
and ******* her face like I was going to die

“Hey, what’s up?”I said “I gave it a rub
and I’m not going to buy unless I try,
a lick with my lips, is as good as a scrub”,
and I gave her a wink of my eye

But she wasn’t impressed by my address
and was weirded out by what I meant
She quickly called the police for my arrest
and accused me of sensual harassment

When the police arrived at the crime
I quickly swallowed the pips
For a pinch of a grape, I’m paying no fine
no matter what she claims I did with my lips

dont get weirded out
this is safe for work
you see im entertaining tomorrow
a thorough cleaning is in order
through and through
first things first
a proper dusting
right after the coveted sharpie box
shelf comes "first"
books records bric-a-brac and all
****
ive been meaning to listen to this album
signed and everything
lets put that on for some dusting music
table turns
check
the needles effective
i can hear the shallow resonance
hmm no audio
lets unplug all the cables
check the power supply
and the pre-amp
turn it all off then on again
****
let me take this apart real quick
****
i need some parts
i need to call stanton
OPERATOR! OPERATOR!
30 minutes later im told they dont have it
WHELP
back to dusting
stepping over stanton parts
I THOUGHT I LOST THIS MOVIE
i can play it in the background
whilst im cleaning
THE PROJECTORS BROKEN
let me take that apart real quick
hope i dont get the parts
of the two aberrations crossed
that mustnt happen
wink
and then the re-framing project
and then organizing my music collection
and then just one poem
color code my closet
rewrite my resume
clip my toenails
and my nose hair
four more poems
annnnnnnnnnd
mess

"oh hey welcome, drinks are over there
just dont step on my record player"

and heres where it gets crazy smart
i tear EVERYTHING off the walls
draw all over all the stuffs
with those ****** sharpies that started it all
turn the whole ******* place
into a performance art piece
i call it
"fix it: I DARE YOU!"

Dear Manic Pixie Dream Boy,

You’re weird.

You like to dance badly to Michael Jackson. The Beatles are your idols. You’re a miracle worker when it comes to procrastinating projects. You choose to be Murdoc over Nightwing any day. A phone is a necessity you chose to live without. A good-looking leather jacket is among one of the many things you’d want in life. You have a vintage camera collection and your house has ninja swords that no one really uses. You let others borrow your bikes, and are not afraid to punch someone who’s a threat…

… and that’s why I like you.

I like the way you accept my flaws. I like the way your curiosity takes over every inch of space you’re in. I like how it’s so easy to talk to you, no matter how mundane the questions are. I like how you don’t judge my preference for long, critical words. I like how you value opinions a lot, and think them through. I’ve asked for your help too many times to count, and you don’t show any signs of being tired about it. I don’t know if you notice the way your face lights up when you talk about the things you love, because it’s blindingly endearing. It’s precious that you have a checklist of things to do before you die. Each word that comes from your mouth seems so genuine and sincere.

I could go on and on about the little things that make me so enamored with you… but I know I’m not supposed to like you.

Labels are a possessive sign to you, while labels give a sense of stability for me. Your nocturnal ways and my early-bird persona will clash eventually. I like finishing things early, while you wait ’til the last minute. Disney doesn’t exactly mesh well with the Gorillaz. Your stubbornness and mine will be our downfall, despite the numerous petty debates we’ve had so far.

I’m still glad you’re my friend.

I mean, that’s what we are, right? Friends? I mean, friends sit on the curb of the street and listen to how each other’s days went, right? Friends stay up until the late hours of the morning to talk about life through audio calls, right? Friends go to the park in the middle of the night together without their parents knowing, right? Cute nicknames as we wish each other good night is a friend thing, right?

Right. I forgot. Labels are a possessive thing to you.

I’ll try to stop checking Facebook for every chance you’re online. I’ll try to make our talks less about personal things, because I think only my labeled “boyfriend” should know them. Forgive me for trying to keep my distance, because I’m sure that I’ll only fall harder the more I get to know you. You’re probably starting to get weirded out by my strict, depressed lifestyle, anyway.

I hope that one day you’d find The One who would change your life. As much as I’d like that to be me, I know it’ll be someone else.

Signed,

The Snooty Protagonist

If you dont want to talk to me anymore Then just...
Tell me.

I mean I know we just met and all
I'm new to all this,
But you can't just leave me
In the dark....

Cause I worry.
I lose sleep.
I care.

I dont know if I scared you off
Or weirded you out
Or said something rude or wrong.

I had a really great time Wednesday.
With you.
And for the first time in a while
With you, I didn't feel alone.

But if you don't want to talk to me anymore,

Just tell me.

Wisdom. He said.
Probably the statement itself is weirded out.
Wired into something so estranged.
Something so strange.
Wisdom He said.
Think about it she persisted.
Think about it he insisted.
Wisdom

My seven brothers keep secrets
And they trust that I won't tell
And I didn't
Until now

My brother keeps a lighter in his bag
He's very asthmatic and also doesn't smoke
He says it's a metaphor
It's one less lighter that does it's job, and instead does a better job
He believes that I wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother thought of killing himself once
He's nice and everything seems alright
He says it's ironic
I want people to see how  my happiness isn't real. And it's sad that I'm already too good at it for them to notice.
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother wears rubber bands on his wrists
He looked cool to me but it weirded me out
He says it's an alternative
The burn of me flicking bands on my wrist lessens my yearning for it to be cut open
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother likes boys, but he still likes girls all the same
I thought it weird at first but it's who he is so I accepted him
He says it's Love
I fall for who I fall for, is it my fault if they think it wrong?
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother thinks he isn't good enough for anything good
I try to tell him otherwise because I love him
He says it's nothing
I've grown up thinking I'll always get what I deserve. So that's what I expect till now.
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother wants to leave our house
I try to tell him I'll miss me but he said he misses himself
He says he's already left
I'm already missing. You see my shadow and my face, but I'm already gone.
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brother wants to be noticed but shy away from attention
He doesn't glow in the dark as much as he emits darkness in the light
He says is ironic
I crave attention for the right I do but gains it by the wrongs I've done
He believes that wouldn't tell anyone
And I didn't
Until now

My brothers may have plenty secrets
But I have one too

And mine is that i never had brothers
But all that I've said were true

Fresh from bout bowelling out
Strict to the noun-foul, striking out
Free from the doubt, designing drought
Finding corolla in new memoralia clout

Sinking in and dipping in deep into trouble
Flanking out and breaking out from the double
Sizing the sequel to be pleasure bubble
Getting through clean and peaceful without a fumble

Aligning caught and catching thought
Finding the way throughout avoiding the fought
Whatever the seas that make us immortal
However the seams turn pillars into portals

Drenched now in the reigns
Cooled down by purple love marooned to later rain
I do not know how much I feign lest I faint
Only these words my communical to conversation paint.

WE'RE SO INCLINED
REALIZE IT
YOU'RE IT
YOU'RE HERE
PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN
BREATHE AND LISTEN
FEEL YOUR SURROUNDINGS
I'M SO PASSIONATE
ABOUT EVERYTHING AROUND
WHAT I CAN FEEL AND CONTROL
THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO EVERYTHING
YOU ARE YOUR OWN DESTINY IF YOU BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
DON'T BE TRAPPED IN THIS HOLE OF ADVERTISEMENT
THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO YOUR EXISTENCE I PROMISE
ASK ME WHAT'S ON MY MIND SO WE CAN PROGRESS DON'T BE WEIRDED OUT BY IT
ANSWER ME HONESTLY
TELL ME
BE HONEST WITH ME AND YOURSELF
**** GOES DOWN BUT IT'S SO POSITIVE
IT'S SUCH A LESSON TO LEARN FROM
MOVE FORWARD
DON'T SETTLE
I'M SO INTO EVERYTHING TO BACK DOWN
I CAN'T BE STUCK
APPRECIATE
THIS IS EARTH
WE'RE HER FOR A LITTLE WHILE
BUT FOREVER KEEPS THE VIBE GOING
IF THERE'S NOT A FOREVER WE STOP TRYING
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DELUSION
LET'S KEEP IT GOING
SPREAD LOVE AND GO WITH WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IN AND ACHIEVE IT BECAUSE YOU WANT IT SO BAD
I WANT TO BE THE BEST
THE WEIRD IS SO YOU
"WHAT'S ON YOUR ******* MIND?"
IT'S SO SAD HOW PEOPLE THINK IT'S A WEIRD QUESTION
I CARE, I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT YOU TO CHANGE PERSPECTIVE
IT'S BAD THAT I THINK IT'S SAD
BUT THE TRUTH HURTS
YOU ARE NATURE
IT'S ALL AROUND YOU
BE WITHIN YOU
THE WIND AND THE TREES
THIS HAS BEEN HERE FOR SO LONG
ON EARTH
THIS IS OUR HOME
DON'T GLUE YOURSELF TO A SCREEN
GET OUT THERE AND BE ONE WITH WHAT'S BEEN THERE SINCE THE START

"Chris just got kicked out of his house."

We rode over to his house,
and I listened to her sing.

Christ sat on the porch railing
dangling
his legs,
biting his fingernails.

I stood on the grass,
as she walked up to him.

He looked
at her neck.

Yukimi
put her hands on his shoulders
and kissed him on the lips.

Something
could have rose
in me.

But it didn't.

We rode back
and Chris slumped into the couch.

I heard him *******
his fingernails
as me and Yukimi lay in bed.

"Lips can do more than talk,
I can tell
he needed that,
I'm sorry if it weirded you out."

"No,
it really didn't."

other than
weirded
the **** out
she didn’t know how
to feel about it

so she read the
words again

SO GLAD TO SEE YOU
ALIVE AND FINE,
LOVE!
ALWAYS KNEW MY DAUGHTER
WILL MAKE IT BIG IN
THIS SMALL WORLD.
LOVE,
DADDY

The words were written
with a black marker
on a $100 bill
that someone threw at
her in the
club
while she was
stripping on the pole

Could’ve been a ******
prank
but $100 was a bit
too much to spend
for laughs

She tried to
remember the
faces of all the men
who gathered around
her and howled
as she did her number
but they were
simply too many
and too bland

Later that night
she asked the
management to remove
private lap dances
from her list of
services for a while
and
the request was denied

Well, when you make
it big
in a small world
you either carry the
weight of fame
on your shoulders or
get crushed

At least the
money bought a good
dinner for
her little daughter
and the two cats

WE'RE SO INCLINED
REALIZE IT
YOU'RE IT
YOU'RE HERE
PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN
BREATHE AND LISTEN
FEEL YOUR SURROUNDINGS
I'M SO PASSIONATE
IF THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY
ABOUT EVERYTHING AROUND
WHAT I CAN FEEL AND CONTROL
THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO EVERYTHING
YOU ARE YOUR OWN DESTINY IF YOU BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
DON'T BE TRAPPED IN THIS HOLE OF ADVERTISEMENT
THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO YOUR EXISTENCE I PROMISE
ASK ME WHAT'S ON MY MIND SO WE CAN PROGRESS DON'T BE WEIRDED OUT BY IT
ANSWER ME HONESTLY
TELL ME
BE HONEST WITH ME AND YOURSELF
**** GOES DOWN BUT IT'S SO POSITIVE
IT'S SUCH A LESSON TO LEARN FROM
MOVE FORWARD
DON'T SETTLE
I'M SO INTO EVERYTHING TO BACK DOWN
I CAN'T BE STUCK
APPRECIATE
THIS IS EARTH
WE'RE HERE FOR A LITTLE WHILE
BUT FOREVER KEEPS THE VIBE GOING
IF THERE'S NOT A FOREVER WE STOP TRYING
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DELUSION
LET'S KEEP IT GOING
SPREAD LOVE AND GO WITH WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IN AND ACHIEVE IT BECAUSE YOU WANT IT SO BAD
I WANT TO BE THE BEST
THE WEIRD IS SO YOU
"WHAT'S ON YOUR ******* MIND?"
IT'S SO SAD HOW PEOPLE THINK IT'S A WEIRD QUESTION
I CARE, I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT YOU TO CHANGE PERSPECTIVE
IT'S BAD THAT I THINK IT'S SAD
BUT THE TRUTH HURTS
YOU ARE NATURE
IT'S ALL AROUND YOU
BE WITHIN YOU
THE WIND AND THE TREES
THIS HAS BEEN HERE FOR SO LONG
ON EARTH
THIS IS OUR HOME
DON'T GLUE YOURSELF TO A SCREEN
GET OUT THERE AND BE ONE WITH WHAT'S BEEN THERE SINCE THE START
WHY ARE WE SO INSIDE THIS BUBBLE OF JUST MONEY
THAT'S NOT FULFILMENT
YOU KNOW THAT
SPREAD YOUR PURE NATURE
NOT FOR THE MONEY
DON'T LET IT CONTROL YOU

He wasn't use to complements she would flirt with him and would wonder what's the catch. He thought there was a connection but there was a hidden agenda. He could never say how he felt for her because she would probably get weirded out living him alone. He thought about dating but the selection was very slim. He didn't have kids or want to raise anyone else's. He also met divorcees that weren't over the divorce or heartache they couldn't get over. He wasn't interested in getting married but did seek a way to be connected to another person. He never understood why people who are unhappy stay together using their kids as an excuse or because this history they don't want to let go of. Why do people cheat if they claim to love a person? How can people be so selfish and hurt others the worse is trying to justify it just own up you're in the wrong so it's not right. His mind raced with questions for failing couples living in the bubble of denial.
He did get lost in his work since he was getting paid, he worked hard for every cent while others did nothing for 8 hours collecting a paycheck doing nothing to deserve it but that's on them and their conscience if they had one. He gave his all at work but everyone pointed out the regardless of all the other corrections he made. They finally gave him a thank you and told him he was doing a good job. It was soothing to finally feel appreciated. Most don't take pride in their work but he would give his all and not afraid to try. He didn't use people or take advantage of others even though would grind him to the bone.

I remember the hugs you used to give me before I really knew you.

I remember feeling weirded out by you asking me out over instagram.

I remember the first time I stood close to you, thinking I felt something there.

I remember you saying hurtful things in the beginning.

I remember sitting in the back of my car, just talking until 1am.

I remember being unsure if I wanted to be with you at first.

I remember sitting on the floor of my dorm, and asking you to kiss me because you were too oblivious to do so.

I remember feeling rushed by your want for instant commitment.

I remember how much I wanted you, and how right it felt being with you.

I remember feeling weird about dating someone from work.

I remember the times you made me cry of happiness.

I remember being hesitant about going public about our relationship.

I remember times I was shocked at how intelligent you seemed.

I remember being frustrated at how stubborn you were sometimes.

I remember how happy it felt to be in the car with you.

I remember the times when you let me down or left me to my own devices when I was sad.

I remember how you made me feel like I was a kid again.

I remember the time I sat crying on the floor after you told me I'd have to give up passing my culture to my kids.

I remember wearing your jacket in North Carolina because it made me feel like you were there.

I remember talking to my guy friend on New Year's because you went to sleep and missed midnight.

I remember the smell of your laundry detergent and how it makes me smile even now.

I remember the times you said you weren't sure if you wanted me around.

I remember loving your family and wanting to be a part of it.

I remember your family kicking me out onto the street when I became an inconvenience.

I remember the times I just wanted to stare at your face because I couldn't believe I loved someone this much.

I remember wondering if you ever truly loved me.

I remember the things you did for me that made me feel loved and complete.

I remember the times when I felt like a burden to you.

I remember the times you were truly there when I needed you, even when it was inconvenient to you.

I remember the times when you weren't.

I remember the kisses you'd give before going to work in the morning.

I remember feeling lonely on the days I didn't hear from you.

I remember loving your flaws, because they were a part of you.

I remember telling myself that your behavior was ok because there was an explanation.

I don't want to remember the ugly. I know it was there. But I don't want to think of you that way. I want to think of you fast asleep on my chest after a long day.

I want to think of not being able to wake you up because you are such a heavy sleeper.

I want to think of you getting excited over snails.

I want to think of your kindness.

I want to think of your love.

But that is not all there was.

There was hurt. There was pain. And there were times I sacrificed who I was to be loved by you.

But I don't want to remember that. I want to remember the love.

.this is a very good night for drinking, i can feel it... and i don't want to "think" about why something is right, and not wrong, at a particular moment in time: the sea of time and i, being merely a drop... how did rock evolve? well, it borrowed heavily from jazz... the anti-lyrical principle, matched with equal engagement of all the five instruments... the genius of jazz... it wasn't a thorough Bach polyphony from beginning to end, the genius marker with jazz comes when all the instruments get a chance to solo, break away from the general rhythm section... what rock relearned? the exact point, of the antithesis of lyricism... rhythm became more important, lyrics became too claustrophobic... rarely can you feel & think at the same time, rarely can you make a simultaneous statement, akin to my sleeping karma - satya... that, that **** is rare... the current rock vibe? borrows from jazz and borrows from reggae... imagine if no slave trade took place... if some nigerian didn't find a guitar... or a saxophone... something good, evidently, came out of it... that's hard to admit to, but... without exposing the western africans to european instruments? we'd still be left with songs of clarinets shoved up our ***** playing songs of irritable bowel syndrome... like: playing a clarinet shoved up your ***, pretending to not cackle marrying a crow's croaking... in situ: a lightbulb that served me well, 10+ years... now i'm too lazy to replace it, so i have five candles burning, and i'm sitting in between them, still trying to find the name of the demigod who brought down the rod of zeus from olympus, or the hammer of thor from asgard... since... sure as ****... the light imminent from a candle, is not the sort of light derived from the fifth element that's electricity... ugh... light from electricity... it's so insomniac... no wonder i ventured to call it... Insomnius... the miracle child of Thanatos and Hypnos... the ****** riddled **** affair... who wanted to crawl back to his origin, the womb of Nyx, saying: i want to be born, the proper way, unlike an unwanted **** pulled from either of your son's *****... like a shepherd pie leaving the oven... mind you... all women should be given birth via a caesarean section... i'm pretty sure we can leave the old biblical bias behind... let's have some common sense decency, no woman should be giving birth like a cow or a mule... ***** envy... oh yeah... plenty of that... when the poor ******'s head gets pushed through a ******!


the reason why dialectics died,
is because a mediator
was introduced,
and that one of the dialogue
instigators could not
play a mediator with
a joker hand...
               there's the mising
game of the joker card....
     and people say poetry is
in demise...
       poetry was born from a platonic
dialogue, rather than
an aristotelian monologue;
after all, people these days talk
about an "opinionated" man...
they never dare to mention
the dialectical man...
        everyone is entitled to their opinions,
is pressured to keep them,
like the men entrenched
in the poppy fields of belgium:
one side didn't want to hear
what the other side was talking...
sure: this whole: "but it's my opinion",
so, why not put it against
my want to exercise dialectics?
ultimately a "freedom" of speech
is worth nothing,
      when opinions remain,
akin to shovels and trench digging...

and when h'americans talk about the superficiality
of their culture, deeming 'how are you?'
questions,
   to someone like a supermarket cashier,
as deeply rooted in existential cruxes...
i just want to laugh...
   what's either deep, or superficial
about that sort of question?
   only yesterday the same...
****, that was two days ago...
fay fever...
      she looked bloated and rotten in terms
of being self-contained i.e. content...
that's why i'm so bewildered about
how h'americans see themselves,
and, notably, how their cultural norm
export is appropriated and made
the new norm, esp. in england...
me? i was being superficial asking
a "deep existential" question
of a supermarket cashier as to how
she was?
   two days ago she looked life ****
because of her hay fever,
today, i told her: you look, radiant...
that the thing, i'll respect any
occupation, but it's about time i receive
some of that respect back...
i even told my father:
  you know the happiest summer
of my life?
   it was working with you,
on the scottish widows h.q. building
near st. paul's...
          this? this is nothing...
but i don't think that owning a chemistry
degree would translate into
an ambition of working in a supermarket...
so then she told me,
  she figured out a way to get to know
this guy who owns two ambulances
just up the road...
   she wants to quit this supermarket
job, and learn to become a paramedic...
she'll go to university
and on the side, get free training
from the guy who lives up
the road and owns two ambulances...
and that's when it dawned on me...
however many times i walked
past that house,
  i thought there was a sick child
stashed in there...
   something akin to Sophia Weaver,
with rett syndrome...
  sorry, god or no god,
  pro life or pro choice...
        does anyone need to see
any more horror movies?
        i'm not even going to troll joke or
whatever...
                 what does pin-head
say in the end?
   welcome, to, your, worst, nightmare...
re-ah-lí-tȳ.
               mind you,
i once had a vision...
          of someone... who had their lips
cut-off...
and were persistently... "grinning"...
          i called this person:
                          todlächelnkopf...
death-smile-h­ead...
                           i'm still not laughing...
but... i managed to find out
what a selfless person looks like,
a supermarket cashier,
who wants to become a paramedic...
  i still don't know what the h'americans
are talking about,
when they equate: how are you doing(?)
to be, some, "grand" existential question...
perhaps h'american society is
superficial... while english society
is only "superficial" in it also being polite?
sure, faking politeness...
that's pretty "bad"...
           but there comes a problem,
when you get caught...
faking superficiality...
       for the per se sake of superficiality
per se...
                        h'americans are weird,
weirded than the english...
    "personal space"...   talking to strangers...
whatever the **** comes out
from these morphed former englishmen...
don't get me wrong: great music...
great culture...
                 but social norms
bound to something akin to a down syndrome
orangutan... funny enough...
don't orangutans resemble down syndrome
peeps?
             i mean the resembling factors
are, either funny, or frightening.
well...
   i was just talking to a cashier...
i told her she looked radiant...
            and then she opened up and told me
her ambitions...
like my english teacher said...
who gives a **** whether the whole:
an apple a day...                   keeps the doctor away...
thomas, you're a legend...
                 one, just one compliment...
and... you'll see a second sunrise in
a person's eye, even if it's turning 10pm.

p.s. it's not like mona lisa was ever smiling,
to me? if she's not showing her
teeth, and her mouth isn't agape,
she's merely, smirking...
can't exactly call it a smile,
when her chee-bones aren't raised;
crafting the doughnut full-moons
and squirming eyes.

I sit alone at a table for two
Trying not to eat my food too fast
I catch myself staring at another table
I think they noticed
I look away but tune back in
Pretending as if I was there
I watch a boy kiss his girlfriend
She seems annoyed
I get mad at her for being annoyed
I catch a guy looking at me
As if weirded out
I pull out my phone and pretend to text
Everyone in this dining hall
Talking, laughing, kissing,
I begin to pop grapes into my mouth
A grape missed my mouth
It falls out and drops onto the floor
I turn red and mutter to myself
I finish the grapes and stare at the screen
I’d give anything to stop being seen
I leave the cafeteria and walk outside
At least out here it’s easier to hide

Alone again
feeling depressed
playing our memories through my mind
When you told me you wish you could go back in time
You said you wanted to start over
Because you feel you messed up.
Then I blush and tell you it's not your fault
being careful to not let those small words slips my lips.
"I love you, don't go."
because if I do, you'll just get more weirded out.
Or say "I know."

what a difference a shift can make:
i come in and out of positions:
sometimes i'm outside on the bag cordons
my favorite spot is
Charlie Cordon 6 for the concerts
last Wednesday i was just there
having a fabulous time

but today my sign in was 3 hours later
i came 20 minutes early
upon exiting Wembley Park Station
a flash of lightning my god's smile
my father's and my son's and daughter's
and i was sort of weirded out
by a missed call from mother
and Lyndon: my agency manager
for the shift...
which came later much later
but i put my phone of aeroplane mode
so only switched back reception
on the train:

jeez! misread the Elizabeth timetable
after 23:48 there is no Shenfield
to Paddington (no bear either,
Lizzie with the marmalade toast: untoasted)
that smile of lightning
and a THUNDERCLAP like the gurgling
of a goat killed proper Halal bruv...
or the hunger in the stomach
of a monster and a child...

i whispered in my mind: one name: though...
Thor:
the mood didn't suit the almighty
Arab and later Bangladeshi or Hebrew
later St. Paul and the German Protestant...

the difference between:
working in a team...
four Englishmen one ******...
the Pollack being their supervisor:
playing all James Bond
my ext number at university
dorms was 007:
            but it felt very edgy:
i was white (still am)
and i was supervising four Englishmen:
as a Pollack that must sound
weird coming to someone like
Rishi Sunak the vegetarian prime minister
it must be weird
sounds almost unnatural
but that was one shift prior: i got it:
break-up stab in the back
going all crazy with the pheromones:
and silent moans
and kiddy candy of the eyes
on the borderline with 17
no sweet 16 no let's not go that far
but imagine my fright:
wolf pack:
who?
wolf pack wolf pack...
one ginger one german in disguise
bartablondine with a crop full of hair
and enough beard
because there was a migration of hair
not from the head
but from the beard
toward the Chest of a Hairy Pirate
the stomach no six max Greek sculptures
hairy like a bear's...

fair enough so many lovely ladies
but i sometimes smoke too much
and not microdose like after today
and i get all transparently transcendental
and sometimes paranoid
but like today i micro-dose
and drink enough to keep me away
and i told myself:
you began tripping again
when you smoked half a proper joint
and drank whiskey without Pepsi:
those carbonated drinks:
no sugar...
no good: especially when mixed with alcohol
best to keep alcohol pure
and steering away from beer and wine
but if wine
then white wine and that's on special occassion
mixing it with marijuana
but best mixing a little whiskey: pure:
best Welsh...        PENDERYN...

     Welsh is the whiskey for me:
not Irish or Scotch:
discounted by over £10 quid at Asda...
from well over £30
to £23... 70cl...
    
             i just feel sorry for myself for not cramming
the entire day in but i can't
be James Joyce and account for the constiption
of but one day
and no one really manages to think so much
in one day
i certainly don't: so i look pocket and of pinpoint
days
and accounts of the hours of that day:
for a day i account for hours
and their smaller minions
when it comes to years
i account for days:
and their larger minions of weeks and months...

i was smarter today
because i was working with a young Bangladeshi
******: openly ******:
a Nigerian: aristocracy: by the sound of it:
and face:
the black girls of former slave owners
must have called
and said their mixed race counterparts
were nothing but **** boys...
and white girls' slaves...

a perfect journey home:
finalized by catching the 00:35 last 103
to Chase Cross home...
and i finished shift at 11pm and coming
down from level 5 at Wembley
is just as hard as exiting from Turnstile G
where staff sign in and sign out
and there were stories
i heard about someone walking in with proper
planning and accreditation
**** like that
just plain old bonkers:

               and Zain the introvert:
i didn't know whether he was the Bangladeshi's
rage whether Indian or not
so i allowed the whole:
and i thought only white people were
racist but
this is racism like Germans were ethnocentric
but not racist:
like the "racism" of the Germans and the Russians
who tried to dictate to the Pollacks
ethnocentrism: a white within white...
but look at me having to be
driven by an English ethnocentrism
that's placed face to face with competing
with the world
having invited the world over after having
traveled the god's blue and settled for
smash my garden up my garden my *******
garden
i love how only one empire imploded
but then exploded back into the fore
of the commonwealth:
and that's not Poland-Lithuania had:
didn't go ahead to charge an Empire
but instead settled on the Commonwealth:
and maybe there's a 3rd stage
while all the immigration fiasco settles
and England, Scotland, Wales: maybe:
certainly Ireland
settle for the Commonwealth of themselves
and from the radio on the news
i heard the vast and drastic and incoherent
term:
DEVOLVED NATIONS...
devolved...
i actually need to look that word up...

           no! no devolved governments!
equal representation of the tongues
or rather the reignited of the Scotch Gaelic!
pretty come please come
speak to me:
like that one black girl i thought was
oh so pretty with St Matthew going all the way
to Ethiopia looking for love...
not rubbing:
but comfortably touching my belly
closing my eyes closing hers
and i tingled at the thought:
but there's a loved woman in your life
and you love her so:
and i want to find that sort of love for me
and i want to find that same sort of love
for me...

to think: this day has not yet been
as perfectly executed to memory imprinted
with self-evident lettering to
my standard of digestion of dream:
before a digestion happens:
there must be a conjuring... of them...
i never understood people who have
recurrent dreams:
unlucky maybe sunshine maybe moon-too:

I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL
I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL
I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL...

i was there: pretending to be a bowl steward
like my origins in this industry:
i just remember that i managed
to sneak in one SIA without licensing
and when the Quality Assurance Officer
came up to me and
i addressed her as a Quality Assurance... blah
blah:
there was quick-chess going on
in the realm of ants and hierarchy
and i did mention
to my fox hunt: wolf pack vs. fox hunt...
because foxes don't hunt
so a fox hunt is... 5 foxes...
    being hunted... coming together:
to figure out an escape plan...

   adoptive Darwinism: fox hunting is a *****
sport...
i just delved into the FOX HUNT
vs. the WOLF PACK

   5 foxes: being hunted: started to huddle:
figure out us: we have glamour: and ice...
entice:
what we'll do we'll speak smoothly
smoothing and smiling...

           i'll do the talking: you do the muscle
pretend in between:
jeez one text i didn't want this one guy
to have a bad experience of gigging
i ended up taking the most vulnerable
down the elevator through to the side of
turnstile G...

          i feel like a rock star
                 i feel like a rock star...
i feel like a rock star:
because i have the world and its troubles
like the dirt from unwashed hands
and overgrown fingernails
and a smooch in my head from: her-hier...

but as a team we remained tight
no other response team from level 5 managed
to walk out through any turnstile
we were the owners
i felt English too and i didn't give a ****
i swear turnstile A was solid
without a queue
gone in 10 minutes
and the girls were flirted with
that i couldn't with a Bangladeshi or a Nigerian
but this was ACDC
and this was more politics
than teenage crush dream...

       candy crush saga of lady labyrinth
of Jane Austen:
that... exfoliation of language of class:
in Bridgeton and elsewhere
oh baby but
i'm somewhere in between
that class of tongue
and thesaurus and peacocking
and just talking ***** and reality
of the Cart and Horses in STR (greater anglia
acronym, station name).