stampede is coming
mastadon infantry
radiate this frequency
and show me just what
the hell you mean
"... you're going to have a miserable future. But overall you'll have a happy life."
It's a night life just falling down on me like starshine shoes in a hollywood production of life on a hillside slanted acreage. Peace and silence and dusty wives covered in the green they grew up from like frost bitten mammals that they were. So judicial these children in cribs and pacified dreams burning down through the stem. I still have trouble coping with their indignation and rebellious clout frothing out at me while I enjoy the tepid temperament that I've built to hold myself outside of this mess. The market closed on a Sunday noon right outside the last newspaper park article writing something of a ma'am and hiss of pride and default nature of another damsel. Could it have been a contextual fraud of rocking maturity throwing joke and soda down throat and cold cooler bottle stalks?
Then again it could be the crave for a pointless sea farer and his dolphin troupe to wage a war for land. Is it so wrong to desire war for warssake? No ideology just crushing violence against wrist and shoulder, pundit to squashed sense of humours...
Hmm, it might be of a better idea to consolidate into a more coherent existence, but then again, these are how the thoughts exist in their quiet reserve, shuffled and conversing on their own, conjoining and conjugating a massive orgy of information sitting fingertips length from tumbler and tumbled sleep. So what better way to throw them at the world than the raw seer formlessness gurgling and spewing itself. Interesting imagery I think. I've begun to see the fire eat itself and out of sheeer madness begin to lick at others. Oh how I did say it was, but then again, people think I'm just disturbing in my thoughts on god and man and gods among men and all the kind of us being flame in passion and working to no end other than a deep destruction of soul. Given that all that exists anyhow. Brilliant little tangent no?
I still feel some peace but it seems so fell and angry that I've let it fall into their hands. I don't want to be callous and cold, but it is merely the nature of evolving sons. Turn inward and silent in order to push the bounds outward and burn the establishment. Could be a lack of inspiration that drives me to read and find some old words for today's blog, or tomorrow's class, who knows. I suppose it is fair to say that I wish to stay here under the condition that I can live alone, without neighbors, near the hills, and with my cats. Just so that it all no longer rhymes with conundrum. A tricky gesture and floats off in imagination. I've always expected myself to be absolutely off the cuff and out of the area. Turn the corner and the world to look backwards and me forwards but somehow upside down, only to see that it is as it was and hasn't a chance at being unprofessional? More nonsense and no longer poetic I'm afraid. This is Spring in its burgeoning form, aching and sucking dry chest and mind. I suppose that's the only explanation of the previous posts before January left me in such disarray. Ah, well, it's been warm and the books have been piling up much to my delight. Some new Turgenev and Stendahl, some Vonnegut and Adams. All I need now is a plane ticket to Bhutan and I'll be set, methinks.
Cheers.
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