Multitudes:
I’m Twenty Different People at any Given Time:
Everything Deleted,
. Depleted.
on the front line,
the spine.
Pines on the side of the road,
growing,
With talent or balance or both.
Balance you can’t take away,
Critique isn’t ever necessary,
The clock moves with spirit.
The Ghosts take their Time:
I’m obsessed with time and eyes ,,and witchcraft .
The clouds are formed strangely now./
“Is it a sign?”
Sports Sticker on the Back of an SUV.
We pass them, I wonder what it’s like to be a part of something organized.
There’s nothing to do but grow. Changing twisting turning inside out for once.
think nothing:
Blinking sinking lower in my chair fucked up posture fucked up days. no closure . sun’s rays on my hair ,on my face, sweat dripping clothes
,bare,
the land is bare.
Stuck:
Loading screen stuck
My feet stuck
My fingers stuck
Tuck everything in
Hide the land
Hide the hands
You use to kill.
Negative:
Black Holes, dream sequence, do not enter. splinters. Infected headspace, the grass is always greener, scenery shifting morphing like monsters. Schematics slapped down on the road piss on em, rip em up. Set fire to the truck. There’s been a lot of luck lost. Citizens become denizens denied. Fried nicely. Pricey existence. The cost of efficiency. Great estate steamroll the lake
stand in the smog breath,
. baked , in an oven. Serfs on the grass forget where they were. Defocused and deaf. spend time standing, staring, standing, staring beware of normal, my brain tells me daily, smoked again. ash on my pants. Jeans Stained with mud, cleanse my cuts. Muster up the strength.
Suns up time to go vines grow and choke me out .Chime in if you’re full of doubt. Lifted spirits. Spliff Inheritance. Cliffs and barren wasteland, wasted sand, concrete.
Absolute control. Patrol the areas.
Spare your life.
for once.
for nothing
it’s done again and again.
No name’
No.
Face scraped off.
Chafed by sand. Skin smooth ,
sin slips down the stains
hiding the burning furnace.
Furnished home expensive, expression. Questions.
up in the air,
pick them out, ripe, standing there,
watches.
Where can we be at once,
an ounce,
an account for money,
for souls.
Stole.
“Given.”
a spliff in hand like a stick shift, shift my state, drifting late into a figure ,eight turned counterclockwise, infinitely tied. Stop signs, crop circles, crop characters out of the picture, lectures, levers flipped, flip my days, gifts of space. The grass turns brown. We move. We soothe.
We get in tune with the frequency, frequently. Spill my ink, spill my truths, still in use.
Who’s this useless time, don’t follow mind, don’t follow crime. Frozen, cryogenic, mine surpassed that.
Half assed days in this hazmat suit swallowing my swears.
Living claustrophobic.
Tight chest, contagious, back to basics.
Occasionally.
* Collage
* Photoshop vid
* Up early
* Guitar
* Minimal guitar + vocals
* Recycle throwaway tracks
Minimize!
White.
White walls, white halls, white hands, white etchings,
cave paintings.
Faint but tangible,
handles,
On the candle,
Lift it up,
Mandible twitching,
Itching my palms,
Leaves in the way,
Sight
gray.
Words'
Folder
with the
Passwords,
Empty
Face,
organize,
Taste, new dumps,
New fun, . new guns .
To stick to .
Untitled:
Deranged phone calls disrupt my slumber,
Slide into,
Silence forever.
Heaven experience:
On Earth the search is over.
The platform
tips, spills dirt & dust.
Explanations without explanation.
Declaration made of nothing.
Signed.
Nothing in mind anymore. Empty.
Billboards
on the right and left side of the road.
telephone polls.
Diary entry 1:
Still torn between being functional
& insane .used to being in the drain , clumsy,
I fell,
clammy hands and pain.
Windows with rain.
Honesty w/ lies.
tears.
Slice:
Slice a piece, a piece of peace. name misspelled in the swelling universe.
unified we share a curse or a gift.
Diary entry 2:
Passing by my tags, trespassing in my memories, way back.
trying to find a place to smoke.
Roses:
Imagine my stature
Is flattened in comparison to the feelings you portray.
Portraits fade.
Degrade me. I feel less than human.
Stressed, my hair falls out.
We share the fall out,
but i feel responsible.
I’m trespassing all the time.
I feel the burden.
Climb, Climb, Climb.
The pressure in mind,
Eternal damnation once upon a time.
Remains:
Is it worth it?
Was it for the best?
The songs. design. The rest. The rest is well earned.
The most are all burned, burned out in breath, in skin,
cleansed at night.
The violence,
the Spite.
Construction:
Respect for their construction? I don’t have any to spare.
Spells and sweltering heat:
The weather kills,
Lambs wool on the spill of blood.
Dry up the mud.
wash.
Fade away.
Watch.
The dark becomes light.
Flip the night into day,
into night.
Days, years:
Just make it through the day.
Just make it through the year.
Our fear is Computer generated, forever distorted.
The artifice,
it's up to your imagination.
wrong rations
Blatant songs.
no hidden words.
Energy.
Uncomfortable.
My chest is impatient.
Scary, blurry:
Across ceilings,
My vision is blurry,
Dark spots,
Evade,
A hurried glance,
betrayed.
Untitled:
Gas,
In the air.
Signs wave.
Farewell.
Trapped in the cell,
Clasped.
Wrists restricted.
Projected,
visions.
Hell hologram.
Infinite roads:
the road to infinity,
imbues my skin.
a map.
tainted topography.
blank behind the eyes.
they never stopped.
Misbehave:
My eyes wander in a dreamlike state,
I wonder what’s left of the interstate.
Cars become remnants,
Abandoned like songs never finished.
Face the cave.
My brain is shaved,
of the texture.
misbehaviors.
lectures.
Diary entry 3:
My ears caught on the conversation of my parents,
hanging like indents.
Intent on sabotaging intent.
It’s night time I sit. on my beanbag chair.
Sharing with you is wonderful.
Time:
Stuck on time.
The Glue.
Comes undone,
Smoking barrel,
of a gun.
On the edge,
Of the sun.
Ghosts:
Seeing ghosts,
They twist into a spire.
Often smoke,
Stuck in fire.
Unwind:
Dinosaur voice,
The vegetable book,
Frozen in time,
Unwind.
Uneducation:
The rain,
dancing,
pictures with dust on the frame.
Oriental rugs,
with frayed edges.
faded to beige,
antique ideas.
I want a home.
Gerunds:
I’m better,
Sometimes worse,
Cursed tongue,
On the run,
The leaves are gerunds,
Geographic locations.
Diary entry 4:
Algorithms seeping into my very being. As I get older I feel more like a bum.
Choke:
My mind, times two,
Can I find you?
Inside crime sprees.
Violent ivy growth,
On the top of the throat,
Choke.
Being alive:
Creeping despair, I frequently stare off into the distance as if I’m looking for something, but there’s nothing to hold onto. No goals, no soul to stay inside, I feel like I survived, but I’m drug down, to your level.
Diary entry 5:
Talking in my sleep. The ceiling saw it all.
Wine:
Aging.
Sometimes,
God,
oddities.
Snow on a jacket,
Had it all.
All or nothing.
Dream story:
I got out of bed. Next I put on dark green sweatpants and a grey dickies sweatshirt. This is all I’m going to wear today. It’s a Sunday and it’s freezing cold outside. I start to notice the walls are moving. I’m enjoying it slightly, the flow of the lukewarm breeze inside the house takes me to another place. A place where glaciers are comfy beds to sleep on. I look out the window. The trees have a lavender hue and a soft bloom sits over the scene like a memory sequence of a film. I’m all neutral colors but everything outside of me starts to seep in. The room is blue. I suddenly am tired again even though I slept 10 hours and it's 10 am. I dive back into my bed and my room is a mess. The floor is covered in clothes and hangers that all seem like piles of bodies. I drift off and wake up in a car. Next to me is my friend and we are on the highway. Both sides of the road are high cliffs of yellow stone. It is sand stone. There are mountains in the distance like waves. With my eyes close, I swerve off the road.
