Thursday, October 02, 2014


I often dont understand what my mind is swirling around but I stare at it anyway, hoping some kind of order will emerge after out of focus starts, looking like meditation or dream. wit has failed me today, all the secrets and sorrow and flavors in my blood gave way to a sort of cool disdain for all things me

its not a crisis of faith, I do believe I am extraordinary, what I cannot believe is how ordinary I am, without any attempt at paradox, so in fact im merely extra, which works nicely on the tough stains and charred bits, if not the verdict of a life well lived, which is lovely, but so frighteningly airbrushed

and I dream again of the glass green house where all the green is outside, and it rains, and shines, and falls, then snows, and I can watch, ensconsced in glass, without having to touch it, or do anything else, but watch until my body gives, which is the same as now, except glass doesn't fill my senses, and I keep waking up

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