this is not working

fearing nearing obsession,

yourestillhereyourestillhereyourestillhere!!! INSIDE ME

this is why it’s become hard to look to the sky!

something I can’t face

baby,

youre here (“whether we like it or not”]]

our stars keeping an eyewatch. measuring their own brightness,

attempting to tempt me on board-

something is wrong

This verges on becoming some prevention method; some extra cyclic sickness

i fear

what if we’ve lost the youth of our connection??

the deeper we go the more difficult it becomes to emerge. skin layers then need peeling

and blood always comes, at least a dusting.

I AM SICK, DEAR, ARE YOU SICK? IS TIME WASTING US FURTHER? BECAUSE OF ME, IS NECESSARY WORK GOING TO SEED without planting?

I’ve never grasped so hard for religion

never needed any guiding

or doubted my impulses

never did I want a set of rules to follow

any sort of panacea

but now that I know everything is so wrong I feel I must scramble to discover and make rightness

now that living requires this much energy

and even more faith

i’m doing nothing. I’m being less.

please please dont blame me for any failings

please please i am too weak will comply-bend-falter-knees collapse into fallen pickles in a dehydrated stack of leather satchels limply weir-els

where is the purpose drive

and why cant i find it within me like always before

this current constant death and apathy

my neck breaks

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Wasted Germs

“I feel like I’ve been fighting Bowser for fucking four years.

It’s time to save the damn princess already!”

M U S T

B U S T

His ways were appealing and I knew they’d overcome once I learned. I claim not to have learned, but this itchy skin’s finally finding seams. I want to further far far away with none but portable shelter, a sheaf, perhaps some flame, and a bowl to fill with compassion. Feed on none but compassion and knowledge, which when true is compassion anyway.

Wallowing here like a pig is not a choice. Resting eyelids – resting any body when not time isn’t a choice. The choice must only be to shed all that prevents me from knowing and behaving in truth. home isn’t here yet – it calls from that vast land on an appropriated map (perhaps. who knows home until it’s reached)

FUCK these CONFINES this bed does not SERVE

it does not SERVE to wake to an alarm and look at premediated prescription pages

it does not SERVE to strike any sort of balance

And I have the means this time around to renounce.

Today I cannot settle and the reigns shannot be drawn. Today is buzzing from inner-outs and needs in energy discover. Every day is this, this need to expand into Brahman conscious STRIKING past all chains and weird misfigurations! ILLUSION!

craziness

keeping secret all but my tent and the locks of my hair on dirt ground. Fire. Not going in the name of colonialism. Not going as a means to oppress but hoping to shed all these associations – to shed my very skin itself and every attached history and label, to shake out from this dried up husk!! EMERGED! There are no consequences to finding bliss! THE CONSEQUENCE IS ONLY IN REMAINING HERE, fighting Bowser until I die of bored tears. Remaining. Still. Stagnant. A waste of a rebirth and meaningless use of energy. Doing nothing but inserting trace minerals, toxins of sham or at the very best breaking relatively even. But not absorbing for others.

None of this can I say is for others, nay-

this is false. my practices and these learnings are. And they prepare me to travel forth if I am patient. I will dedicate the next 3 months, sure, to study and preparation and loss (which is gain).

And then I’ll go.

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