Emotion. What a strange thing. Why do I feel this? I have a huge explosion of it….. building, building, building.
Boom.
I’m sorry. I’m crazy.
I didn’t mean to…
Why am I feeling this? What is this? This… feeling. I don’t feel it, why do they call it that? I can’t call this a feeling. It’s my beast.
I can feel it growing inside of me.
How do I make it disappear? It is a beast. I can’t… I can’t.
Just bleed already.
Above average in beauty, Above average with intelligence, Above average in poise and grace. Her image in my mind, her reflection of winsomeness. The winsomeness that reflects many images like a house of mirrors, segregate into a prism of color unseen by them. Doltish lemmings at whom we share a laugh at , my eyes able to see the ultraviolet color unseen by them. She has the dissimilitude for whom sees her full spectrum. My outward auditory gasp at the first glimpse of her eastern quality my senses find so pleasing. With out her nothing of myself would have ever stayed here. I would have never found this part of me. This part that makes me weep with feeling as my hands type the text you read. Even just now. The moniker implies jest , nothing of her multi-colored spectrum has ever implied that to me. Knowing her, with the moon changing consecutively as I’m privileged to sit in her shell house. Her hand out to me always never asking of my hand in return. She didn’t have to ask when the time came. Her mult-colored spectrum not as bright, poise and grace shaking with fear of what next. In my mind her image always bright and lovely, I offer my hand. I offer myself, the myself you have been so instrumental in creating in the last 12. All you did was show the spectrum’s of yourself nobody got to see. The phases have moved fast since the first gasp has left my lips, a gasp that you give me with each color you show. Put away childish things, her disappointment, thats what got you here in the first place. Step, take the first one. Then maybe the world can see the spectrum you have freely showed me. The winsomeness of a queen named for the court jester. Forever above average in beauty, forever above average with intelligence, forever above average with poise and grace.
I knew it would be a fight. You’d been nagging at me all damn day. Of course this would end in a fight.. So I pulled my shoulders back, and walked in. You were silent.. but had something on your mind. I suppose you probably felt the same about me. I don’t even remember who broke the ice, or how it started. I just remember the tears. Mine. I screamed. I told you all the things that I’ve been holding back. The things people tell me. My weaknesses that pull me back to you. Your gravitational pull on me. You pull me down to the ground… and I hit it everytime. You don’t catch me, you like to see me fall. You have been holding these things against me. Things that kids do. We’re still kids, you ignorant bastard. We’re still making mistakes.. and we will continue to! I spilled it all. I’m so weak for crawling back to you, just to hear how stupid and terrible I am. You won’t let me forget. Everything is my fault. It’s all my fault and you’re getting your sweet revenge. Revenge for life’s twists.. Fuck that. Fuck it. I can’t do it!
You listened.
And then I saw the tears again. This time, they were yours.
“I’m sorry..”
You told me you never want to hear those words out of my mouth again. It’s not my fault. Did I hear you correctly?
It’s not my fault. You shouldn’t have held it all against me for so long. I’m not stupid. I’m not a terrible person.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
I’m glad you don’t think so, finally. Maybe now I can work on not thinking so myself.
I feel like I can breathe again.
It’s time to sharpen.. the gold is so dull.
Thanks to myjuggalospace.com radio for this vid.
Deep breaths. It will be ok. Anxiety. No creativity. The walls are closing in on me. I have no escape.
I’ll slide out just before the door lands. I will outrun this storm.
6 more days.
Nothing. That was it. Left over from the day before. Walked and rolled around in my head yesterday. I have to laugh when I know people hear me talking to myself, working out conversations or comedy out loud to hear the words out loud. People have to think I’m crazy, but looking how I do it rare for people to say anything about it. Oh killing Rachel. sucks. I haven’t been able to write her death in days and days. I think I bit off more then I could chew with that project. I REALLY like the whole concept, I just cant seem to get things motivated the way I want to. The writing style needed is so out of my depth. For now at least. I absolutely love the poetry I’m writing. The feeling I write from is so zen. It’s truly is like closing my eyes and when I’m done there are these words on screen, beautiful words that draw vivid images that have been copied right from the walls of my inner self . I’m so use to people seeming to want something from me these days that when I hear my writing is good I don’t believe them, I read it and I think its good, pretty amazed at some the work I have done in a short time. It’s hard for me to realize that I have found my talents after all these years. I even had a comic friend of my’n one time asked to see my joke list , unlike most of the comics I know, I write the whole act out. What joke leads to this ect…I don’t plan on that this time around. If I can get back on the stage. Listen to this, recently I think I have come to the conclusion, my mother has fucked me so bad. I m not going to go and blame my whole life of fuck ups on my mother. But I have spent a lifetime trying to please her. Well maybe not her, but her ideas on what life for me should be. So like a dip shit , with out even knowing I have tried to “do right” thinking I was making my mind up on my own. All the time I was still following someone else’s idea of the white picket fence. This is something I see women do all the time. Look for the perfect guy, the perfect kids and the house with the white picket fence. They spend a lifetime looking for that and become more and more bitter when one guy isn’t that, then the next and so on. The whole time changing as a person becoming self empowered with education and finding and hopefully embracing their sexuality. Really becoming strong people. YET still with fuck their whole life up on a guy if in their mind, will make that picket fence dream come true. They will change even their sexual appetites for that person. I’m amazed. Not that myself haven’t participated in the same idiocy , just on a male level. I don’t have a lot male friends that express themselves in a manner I do. If they do its not to me , so I have girl friends to talk to, simply so I don’t feel like I’m loosing touch. Makes me in the friend zone with most , some its a friends with binny’s, or the secret I need laid, but don’t tell anyone I was here. My personal favorite. But for the most part I have a lot of close female friends. I’m pretty happy in the relationship I’m in. She gets me. Thanks for pushing yesterday. I know I was heading somewhere in this blog. Oh ya, I’m mad at myself for always trying to self destruct in my relationships in the last four years. I mean romantic or even friends. I thought I didn’t know why…I think its a lot of things and I’m only aware mostly in retrospect. By then its to late. I’m VERY good and expelling people from my life. People generally don’t even want to try and repair anything with me after Im done. I think I’m so afraid of becoming that person I was trying to make every thing “alright” for my people ,the kids ,the women,my mothers ideas, in some cases I did what ever it took. I just wasn’t myself, and I was unhappy. I think I might have to quit dealing with my mother is what it coming down to. Is that sad. Shes always done right by me. But the emotional toll she takes on my confidence, the voice that keeps telling me what your doing is right for you and your good at it, go dude go. I should be out breaking my back at a 9 to 5 living like the rest of the fucking lemmings. Bitch don’t you get it Im not going to live that way. Not anymore. For me, for now, Im free.
