aside from a couple convoluted poesies that will only ever really make sense to me (and possibly one other).
i post them... but its not because i think they're any good.
its not because i think anyone is going to benefit from some valuable knowledge ive acquired.
surely there are thousands of me out there... secreting the same social clatter.
last night i had a dream.
it was set in some war ridden era... bustling like New York. savage like Bangkok.
i was walking around in this gigantic train station. waiting to catch a train to some unknown destination.
i had my ticket... but could not find my way to the boarding dock. i could see it... but due to all these byzantine walkways and checkpoints i couldn’t get there. it was like walking through an active Tetris game.
eventually a security guard came up and grabbed me.
told me i needed to get to a hospital immediately.
i looked down.. to see that my body was riddled with little pieces of shrapnel. not metal, but paper.
little bits of paper inked with familiar, elegant words.
they stuck in me like knife blades.
i tried to pull them out... but the security guard stopped me.
told me.. he knows they hurt... but pulling them out would only make it worse.
i woke up.
anyways.. i think im in some kind of stalemate.
and when you've been stalemated you're usually fucked.
cant go back
but maybe im able to cope
when i try to pick apart my brain.. it always sounds so damned solemn.
id love to stumble onto some grand conclusion.. some rickety path to righteousness.
who knows.. maybe i have.
maybe its just a really long, rickety path.
to anyone. to you.