slip it in, repeat repeat repeat.

i get so wound up

i feel so let down

once

how can i fix myself

when there are so many more serious issues to tackle.

how can people do this to dogs? let alone other people.

make me inherently tougher.

//

ffo ylgnibmun

the sheer number of revisions

=

my corpse like appearance/state of mind

i'm in hell, on a treadmill.

but i absolutely shouldn't complain.

japanese life is real.

this isn't.

it's the constant comparison leaving you without any self-justification

i'm very much alive and not miserable,

but i can't feel any of it.

butter on the toast of things face down.

why can't you be polite?

rounding the final 10 pages and a rough'n'tough revise.

please, let me (get through it) pass.

too much anxiety for this skin to take/ cyclic anxiety & desperation.

fall back, lay down, get up, die a little, :ll

itching & howling on black screens & mute.

cnn updates my morning on how the 2012 annihilation is true.

misery is a worldly plague.

Ichihara

&

natori, japan

this is heartbreaking

i am.

it's me, the eel again.

hello?

i keep reoccuring.

can't you see?

i think it's meant to be,

you & me.

i could crawl onto your

thigh and make it my home

forever.

i shock and tingle but i'm

real unlike the many of others.

i sigh, "it figures."

the only forevers in my life

are the figures.

they dominate my thoughts

and urge, plead.

they are ruthless,

yet i baby them with a relocation

far from my heart but still nestled in my skin.

emitthgin lavirra.

this time, it's more like larva,

whom my mind imitates every night.

i smoke them out with incense

and the burning of banana brulee wax.

it's so deep and metaphoric.

but in reality, they do die.

only then, am i allowed to sleep

or die a little in myself.

ritualized.

under my tongue, not from it.

ysuol

gnileefysuolysuolysyoly, and it looks like seriously.

or eel or oily, leefy, which sounds like flighty,

which again i know i am.

but i concentrate on the grim tank, cutting board,

evaporation, dry to the point of dissociation,

an even grimmer winter, and serious.

i remind myself that i l--- winter,

but again i cannot bare to handle that word

but bare, it has the wishing for bear.

impossible association because i am still institutionalized,

institutionalized still.

it looks and feels like a lousy, oily eel without a leaf

and its serious.

but again in clarification, an eel is not

deep fried and slice for the appetite.

an eel is found in the korean supermarket

as opposing the bowl of mudskippers,

both are dying,

in stark contrast, its the eel though.

[personal note: _______________.]

serehwemoh.

L41118251

there is so much restrain in my responses. i can only put my worst forward and swallow. blackening more and soak into the self-picking. everything is better when it's all gone.

elephants,

i'll break your heart to keep you far from where all danger starts.

i'm on my way down.

sweet sedation.

another erosion of past ideals. i used to rage at the thought of sedation. and thus, davey havok, man and not pup, i have added yet another letdown onto my mountainous heap of everything you'd spit at. i do the only action i do well, i run away. and this time i found myself heaving on the steps of my mother's house. i put these under my tongue and let them get sucked into my bloodstream and numb. as a wave roll, down jaw/reaching each jointed bone. into each capillary. how i wish you'd suck me in. yet you won't and won't ever yield to my selfish need. schistosoma, i want to be. i want to live there and make you piss blood, hurting prideful in this manhood. a village rejoicing from what you pass. i go numb as i am absent from crowd. look what i started.

and here, you will have your peace. every ache vibrates just at a lower frequency, not high enough for you to feel it. just enough for me remember i am far from ceasing. you and i have gotten our much deserved silent. tiger sleeping in this face crawling, scratching at this door, push to the left and let it starve its way into the submission, of the world. no one cares if you're not wailing/at the door of death and this time, this man won't have the burden of worry. i am slow and silent in this decay, needed room to sway closer and closer to your needed distance.

stickless,

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.

SUN(day).

none of this, anymore.

i heard a lady singing: "i've tried to get along with you, i have asked myself, what are we gonna do? i'm coming round to take a stand, going to put us together with glue or an elastic band" so world, i'm sorry for being so angry at you. i'm going to try to be nice, really try. it'll be easier for me if you put more puppies and/or animals and nice people in my path. i'll be a good investment.

true tenderness.

it has to come off now. hands to your eyes, eyes on your hand dark black, a terrifying black. why doesn't it come off instantly? one swipe, but no. it takes three, four, five, six and some waning on the seventh. i think there's air trapped in the mucus. like a toad's eye, it's watching me. it blinks. and the left nostril keeps running as on-going as the faucet. they are racing.

there's no beauty without the wound. lucifer was the most beautiful of all the angels, that was his flaw//francis bacon.

absolute black.

wings, watches and glass// collars, conversations and spiders// this sound of keysmusically// haunt, mourn and man(he//all hes, [[not {fannie hesse or eva} wrong gendersex]) is a goodbye. a prayer. a quarter past a measurement. i see the face of ___ in yours, but when its cold out i behave like a dog. it doesn't matter who it is or i'd like to deceive myself. it matters, its a price. a string. forgetting is more of a question than a definitive action. or stop it, stop talking. you think more....how does the word dream play against the phrase 'sounds like a dream' or 'a dream of mine'? dream isn't a positive, yet people give it that popular meaning. keep on running, 3 hours will exhausts all glycogen. could you consider that a ____? i wouldn't. there are so much more. casually confirming my fears. i take back, and i pack even more. what are hardbacks? give me an absolute quantification. i look around and sink deeper, lower, irretrievably and out of cast. trout fishing in america. farewell to the grounds(](?/.)). hold my head up. i'm always with you//even in my blood, it dies and cycles into life, pretty regularly.

don't put a finger, but he had five on, on, on, on and still on. what can you really do? can't i get a fucking reflection in you? while you're twisting, i'm still breathing. i wonder what keeps you so high, you need to be grounded, underground-ed. why do some people grow so tall? fuck. but i do like the dark minute when the sun drowns and i mouth it like i am in control, strangle yourself with illogical minnows. i'd eat animal flesh if it was so, but it's not so - not really. most everyone i know pretends (that projection) and i separate the todos and assume everyone does now. cracked glass, i feel the cold. you're careless like ____, absent theory of mind; hemo, wish upon never.

i need to pretend to be a catholic to undergo a confessional(light).