rude awakenings

This is a new language. A new way of viewing Were I can observe the beauty of paint chipped cement floors which peal away in gold flakes. Where the poetry lifts you up into a music video in your mind drawn on gray cement sidewalk blocks with green and pink and yellow sticks of chalk. And this car pulls you up out a road in your spine with seat belts of sand and once upon a time. pulling you upwards but there's never any end, it's a spinning transition that turns and turns again. There's nothing really new just looking with new eyes, new view. It is this trip that makes you want to stay up all night, lighting candles and incense and just write. On the walls, on the door in charcoal and chalk, some complex dialogue with your deep inner thoughts. And to sit and recite poetry in your shower. why? God knows. God knows how long it's been since we've been sitting here, two or four hours? And here we go again with these categories and, his definitions mass conclusions stall...

I am so afraid. my reality, the foundation's built by years of this society, following blindly and simply, and happily. Have been shaken I went to a slam. I heard The most amazing poetry ever. The most inspiring reader. Everything she said made sense. And I went home and I wrote. and wrote. And I was no longer in the world I grew up in But I was. But it was different slightly altered. It was on the level of energy Instead of purely physical it was intangible, no borders, everything flowed together And I wrote for hours. In my illegible chicken scratch In my notebook for poetry. I was running on tracks of other-worldly inspiration Frightening. Because I didn't know if I could believe anything of my past I didn't know what was real or what that word even meant. What anything meant. And now, I've gone back between the layers of shelter of the modernist society but I have traces still embeded in my brain of this other world. this other dimension. Je n'ai aucune idee quo...

I don't want to follow you anymore. I don't want to hear it. Read it, feel the loneliness mixed impeccably with jealousy in a Molotov cocktail and thrown in a window in my brain. Explodes with each compacted memory I'd stored away in hibernation. When I am without memories I am happy. No relativity to define me.

All romantics meet the same fate some day, cynical and drunk, and boring someone in some dark cafe Wouldn't it be great, that perfect soulmate who offers a permanent release? Wouldn't it be fun, two souls fused as one, and living in joy and in peace? I know that I'm young And I've only begun but I've got 2 years already under my belt And all that I've gained was two years of pain you wouldn't believe the shit that I've felt. I said it was love, that was sent from above! Oh, what a fool was I. I just thought that pain was part of the game And it was perfectly normal to cry. But the tears they kept flowing, Showing no signs of slowing, Throwing my resolve all askew. And the truth began showing through the tears, still ongoing I was now knowing what I had to do. So now, my friends, I'll skip ahead to the end, You all know how this chapter goes Harsh words were spoken, two hearts now left broken, As I'm sure that most of you know. So now you may see...

I have always been fascinated with the human body, but more so the female body. I think of it as beautiful and artistic. Ever since I was young I'd been subjected to the naked female form. Swimming pool showers and older women walking nude. Being taboo, my friends would all be so scarred and afraid to look. But I'd been subjected to it at a young age, and grew accustomed. Being around women who weren't ashamed to be exposed opened my eyes, and gave me an appreciation for this work of art hung in flesh. And so I find that drawings and paitings of naked women are just so beautiful. I can't explain it more than that. There's nothing much more beautiful than a women who isn't afraid or ashamed of her body. [from rue des images ]

So if you've heard of dragon naturally speaking you may understand this. this is me reading my poem 'good enough' ( a few blogs down) into the program and this is what it decided to show up as. needless to say i need to enunciate more. Shadow down and I to the edition was printed on the and I caught the image that was printed on at each price between us. Aware that your heavy and reluctant hanging onto the tissues of my mind the first thinkers I to phrases but for all the effort getting a list by shoulder gets the door to keep them in Rio the blinders they've just because I didn't want to hurt and need to see the destruction related by wake the razor blade to silence the Eagles in.hello to you by as I sped off I don't see because I turned my back. Out of sight out of mind but I do said it yours and take steely God's wide. I've are poised at you. Because I turned my back. And I tore it down I read you up and I thank you to the. And I read search for those...