You.
There is no effort.
No trying. No work.
In the midst of conversation.
I feel like a man.
And to me, you, feel like a woman.
Two different lives.
Two different pasts.
Occasionally criscrossing.
They've atleast led us to here.
If for a moment, or for however long.
It is. ...it may not be more than whatever this is.
But selfishly, and as simply as it can be,
it suits my need.
For someone to just be there.
Now, the greater needs...
The important needs...
Are pondered over furiously.
Are considered.....carefully.
The instigation of desire.
Are pushing my days...
And fueling my nights.
It is a slow motion screaming...
God help us when it gains momentum,
And speeds disasterously into a mountain.
Sending hot debris and flames in all directions.
Oddly. I'm not driving that train.
My brain is on its back begging to go faster.
And my heart is looking backward....
Just hoping that it all somehow, eventually,
makes some sort of sense.
But also...hopes...that whatever fills him.
Stays. And doesn't drain and flush out of him.
Even if its poison, he is happy to even be pumping
Something through these lame veins again.
So from where I sit.
I'm here because it makes me feel.
It brings happiness.
It may stop tomorrow.
Or next year.
But as long as my stupid sorrow and sadness
Are held at bay,
You hold my friendly leash.
Ill do whatever you ask.
In 10 years.
We'll look back on today as the good old days.
Much like how we do, about 10 years ago.
Because things are constantly changing,
Not only is everything around us changing,
But we are too. With every breath, with every blink,
With every passing second, we are constantly changing.
After saying goodbye to everything ive always refused to say goodbye to. I know...it wasn't that important.
What made it important, was everything I built around it. We...are our own power, its only limited by what others allow us to be, to them. Our place in the world is only based on circumstance. Our personal experience, our existence...is ours. Noone like us has ever been alive of existed before. We are ourselves. At this time at this moment...we are all that there is. But much like our limitations from others....we limit ourselves in the same way. Through chemical makeup, or condition. We reserve ourselves, because of a million factors....fuck...I need to sleep.
A creative stalemate.
The images dont come out.
The music isn't there.
I don't live. I think that's the issue.
I don't go out, I don't interact.
I have every reason to.
But absolutely no motivation to actually do it.
And after reading a backed up blog...
Its apparently essential for me to create shit.
Going out seeing and experiencing.
Quicksand.
I'm my age...I'm just not seeing a need to go
And do that dance.
