Muse I do not know how to sit as I write this tonight. I need to be leaning on the ground in order to write legibly, but I want to lie on my back and gaze at the stars. Necessity versus desire. The grass is wet and muddy, my sense tells me to find a blanket or a towel. Or just sit on the bench. But another part of me, the primal part I suppose, wants to lie on this wet, muddy earth. Be close to it. Feel it.Muse
Tonight I go primal.
I take off my top and jeans. Now I lie here in my boxers and socks on this one rare chilly night. Now I lie here in nothing.
"Lurkers" prelude A Man stumbles along the star-lit path, winding between the darkened trees. Stinging nettles grasp at his bare arms and legs, piercing his skin with vicious fangs. The sound of twigs snapping reverberates through the early morning air. But not from him. He has stuck to the gravel strewn path, and whilst the overgrown nettles hang in his way, his tumbling steps crunch only against the tiny white rocks. He is being followed. Some being is shadowing him through the woods alongside the path, flitting deftly from tree to tr"Lurkers" prelude
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Click clack, stop back, Type fast, meet demand, Paper cut, fingers bleed, His work, consumer feed, Words warped, gain prestige, Pages form, the people’s greed, Dream corrupt, soul tainted, Every word, feels jaded, How long he broods, Has it been? For them. Not him. Work. No pleasure.
reminiscing.today i watched the sun play hide and seek with the clouds.reminiscing.
they pretended to be happy, too, the clouds. they drank down their poison strong because they knew that after the sun comes rain and happy is only a temporary state of mind.
today i sat on a tire swing and watched life swing away. it ran passed me in hurried movements of breath caught on pillows and forbidden smiles shared in corridors.
they all disappeared after a microsecond anyway.
today, i stopped loving you. again.
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i find myself increasingly lacking in sleep, self- induced torture witho
needed.a letter of honesty:needed.
written from the heart, she has nothing to say to you. snow lions whisked her away in the blizzard of catastrophe your hurricane sent on her- erupting lava from every pore in her metaphysical corpse.
she'd like me to tell you, though, that she's watching you, every move. not in the sad, sadistic way, she says, but more of the guardian angel way. she wants you to know that. she wants you to know that she's happier now, with penguins to write love letters to and teacups made of real china, the kind you could never afford. (you always said that love alone was enough.) i remember mother telling me th
| Well weird |
Bits and bobs
Questionable
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Hiya
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