Category: passing thoughts

paranoia /\ what’s the catch?

from youth—
people being interested in me outside of family members doing and saying family things.

then formative adolescence: most interaction was either to make fun or find fault or do harm.

i don’t understand strangers approaching me.

what are you getting at?

whats the catch?

—- look at them go. instead of being finished say something about something
.connect to the internet.
connection established**
the one taking who talks fast like on coke goes out to smoke.
wears a shirt, t-shirt black, graphic on front with red sun and some cartoon characters

—- i become surprised when people arent using me. when that’s not coming around.

— there are many people smiling here in echo park.
many of them, i suppose, have a lot to talk about, or at least a lot to say.

i can barely lift my head, i can barely open my eyes.
i can barely stay alive.
that doesn’t say much for thriving.
striving is not the same thriving.

— i stopped using the word “i’ in my youth.

— i can barely poem my eyes.

— i’m really hardcore. i had bareback sex in my car with a person i had met 10 minutes beforehand in a cafe. he was argentinian. he said “i cum for you”. i wanted to lap it up but that was crossing the line for me at the time.

— continuity to life? whats the score?

somewhere in these afterthrows – a feeling
    i have not felt in some time

    and i feel i must admit it.

    it is regret

    . yes, i think this is what this is
    it is like
        having made a meal for oneself

        made with what ingredients for it remaining in the kitchen
        then spilling the meal on the way to the table

    it feels of a similar wavelength to shame, perhaps a little slower

    the feeling like one needs to say sorry to G-d

    its the piss bottle that splashes yalittle when finally going to dump it out

My bike has a flat. i feel great btw
I feel like sex is a special dimension that is also very dangerous

    I kept my ear to the force, and feel differently of “fun”(?)

    I like comic books; the stories inspire me and i feel the aloneness which nods at me

‘Kill’ and ‘sin’ arent synonymous.

 

Lust has killed me,
it killed me, way back when
I was a teen, and i was killed
Since then its mostly been
the absorption of information

Write, write – yeah yeah
Gonna be late for pizza today

Part of me wants to be fired.
with the regular rote it will never happen
I’m too nice(?)
Thinking abt Andy;

how did you do that, Andy?
You changed the game. the world was yours. you received a bullet to the trunk and lived – and you lived. how did you do that, Andy? wear shades behind your shades;
even Krishna and all his clan fell beneath their own weight

Dead by one’s own doing, sans machination, yet by the path of beauty

Ken, when you see Andy, please ask him for me how he did that thing, then come relay what he says in my dreams