Hi
Thinking about death. I'm not sure what it means but I remember just how annoying an upset stomach is, and I think it might feel like that, but everywhere, in your throat and your bones and your eyes and your blood. Your heart hurts because the thing that has to happen is finally happening, and your head hurts because of all the things that you're now realizing didn't in fact have to happen, all the reasons that you had to live for that weren't reasons at all, no, just fingers pointed away from Him.
From the wrinkles on my forehead
To the mud upon my shoe
Everything's a memory
With strings that tie to you
Some old quack at a chilled white (wine) orgy told me that I should write about my dad, but I do, you simple town bastard, I do!
Not sure where this anger is coming from... well, that's honestly a really easy fix. It comes from "i've had a long year dad." Where's my "I Know Chaz," I want to ask... but I won't, and I don't, because long years aren't shit when He's waiting around the corner.
You say I can do it, definitely. I don't know, man. Sometimes it seems like the world could flow from my fingers or my lips and it wouldn't be enough to do what I really want to do... which means that my desires are internal... and that fingers are being pointed awayawayaway.
pointing fingers
our parts are really good at it
good points are made all day every day
i think something can only be a good point as a rebuttal, a response, a rebuke, even
but a true good point isn't responding to anything but the river
it isn't attempting to stop any flow, only to feel it
UGH THE RIVER PLEASE I NEED TO CAPTURE YOU
heres what I have so far:
the river is life, endless motion and flow, a force beyond words or dams or bridges or boats, just a current that carries us along
thing that I cup in my hands to never let fall like water from the clearest of snowmelt rivers
as we are socialized into capitalism, we lose the ability to empathize (and personalize) everything because capitalism demands a boundary between self and the other, between producer and consumer, mother and father, father and son, sister and brother, friend and friend, because production and consumption (and thus love and connection) are means to ends rather than intransient and ongoing processes of life… everything is The River
The walls vs the river
the river is the antonym of the wall
the river is life and death in the same metaphor, the river takes you towards the next place, nowhere else
its natural and damning but ridable, illusion of agency against its power
everyone thinks they're in their own river but they're not, we're all in the same river
the reason i say river is because of my internal demand for structure... if i didn't have direction i wouldn't have Self, or so my parts think
so, the river, and not the ocean
obviously water though
water... mmm
No comments:
Post a Comment