Tuesday, 22 September 2009

the solar star the hydro star....you 2 can B a star

Sometimes your energy is not with you or not fully around you, or like your aura is somehow off, and you feel real sad. its kinda profound. hits you hard. and you wanna walk away from it, loosen it from your mind. doing so you tighten your grip. add stress to CNS like a downgrade from concord grape to marmalade. somehow what you know is OFF. like a cylinder misfiring. like a lazy person really trying. like an intellectual crying. like an immortal actually fucking dying. no way.

poor you, you try and convince yourself your fine. fucked, insidious, naked, erotic. the sexual visions pour out heavy like concrete. this is a real job. this takes work. like 40 hours of rented headspace a week. maybe for a year. you never know. this contractor has the foreman by the balls. everytime someone gets up, someone falls. through the mind of your halls. a dyslexic twist sun-kissed, yes, brought to light. to your awareness. in all fairness we have to suffer. however long we stay there in Off-ness. and when it fades you wont even know. you will just know you are whole. feel better again. got your smile. repaired your sin. Buddha belly sticks out to you, much props to the neurochemistry crew. they really struck that balance. instant replay shows the beauty of it. the dance! they say, the romance!

wells exist. to hold the tears. everyone fades, the video clearly shows! reeling they are, reeling and reeling through the years (on a fishing expedition for the tangents to the romance they once had). oh, again we feel sad. but its okay. it doesnt feel so exactly bad. sad is a dream. not like panic. or manic extreme. sad is cool and calm. sad is like the reading of a palm.

long out of church its safe now, maybe wednesday, so you can feel real turned on. sad has faded. and off is belated in feeling, perseverating in time release anticipation capsules, in the neuro secure tunnels. a network so awesome yet equally banal. you need the thrill. he thinks you are sweet. he wants you like candy. you might be his treat. oh god, whats that combination? the equation, numbers boiling over, water meets fire. flat meets tire. the one on one is so magnetic. o

then the play of one off the other loses charge. the frustrating click of the opener of the car garage. sudden reframe-- magnetic field shifts as the earth spins into infinite space, leaving trails of our atmosphere foam behind it, so the universal forensic scientists can surely find it. to exist is the only point. to be known for what you are and where you belong, even if thats in the joint. prison life can be camaraderie. with a shank readie. got to survive. anyhow anyway you are now alive. only now. reading this. writing this. taking a piss. shooting off your lips. being a prick. being a bitch. loving with R&B all over the dial. passing no judgment, witnessing a child.

you are alive right there, no, right here, and this is all you got. your past is fucking shot. your future is up and coming, special attractions always running. throw the popcorn towards the front. duck down and laugh. someone yells 'cunt!' this is what they do now in their aliveness...more laughter. more wordpiss.

but no thats not right. its about being, said your sight. not henry miller fantasy land. not expatriate still attuned makes you smile. no twisting the rabbit ears around and around in circular 1965 panavision style. free liberated rotation to pick up the invisible magical signal. signal to self from self seems 'mission less critical' and possible self-centered or selfish. you know. like they all say in this nation of individual freedoms....go for it and then you look selfish. diagnosed narcisssistic. fed drugs and medication. you turn into a zombie celebrity. you drool blood from your fangs. the kids love you and their parents hate you. its always the same broken record all over again, you know. and we keep it in a special place so that when the day is done we can break that shit out with our Jack Daniels and Export As .... now that is uncomfortable. that is vulnerable. that is too close to admitting defeat. from that we must retreat. retreat!