Friday, November 5, 2010


i can't stick to a thing. i thought i reached a point where i had grown a shell of confidence and a single person crowd of ears, cares and responses - that i finally had a person(s) to confide in, work myself in and rest out of my skin. in other words, a change enabling me to get out from underneath the internet's skirt. but no chance, i'm clutching-hiding-showing only bands of these rabbit/rabid eyeballs. i'm terrified with some kind of hate, i got rolls, lengths of it. a costco-size tapemeasurer showing every dash i'll never reach or grow to encompass or be able to ingest. it's cruel. i thought i was sylvatic, un-tamable little beast of sorts. i'm come face to face with the reflection of a poor toothless bear wandering around alone, now realizing the opposing factor of crowds, where are the roars of interaction? where is my enclosure? gums cannot do the work and they bleed for no useful function. but here might be a function... sweet sweet infection! an abscess leading from canal to brain to dead to sinsi canal/war fanatics. i swore i needed the land, but on land i die. the cocoon is my companion here and yet its layers of my own bearish rotting swelling skin molting onion-like, encapsulating, granuloma for the better of the other. i lay in my own and i become more what is racing to escape than what wishes to reside. in my sensitivity, insanity, i partition myself further and further from you or whatever you mean. all i want to do is be a walking contradiction of sedation in your sweat and hair yet running away begging to be call'end back into it. resisting and giving in, fighting and f~cking. parasite of every meaning of every part that is in you but alas we are of the same species and this isn't even possible. in impossibilities, i shrivel - choosing to revert to easier, invertebrate behaviors. i find saline swelling for all those who wear the mark of cain and wish to be in treblinka without the choice.


  1. we need tea and time, you and I. let me know what your schedule's like