22.09.02 - 11:15 pm

i am not afraid to look into your eyes
i am not afraid to look into your eyes
i am not afraid to look into your eyes

sometimes i feel like i'm surrounded by redness, red lights, even when i'm not. even when i'm in my dark bedroom listening to nearly god after he's departed. after he's put the art back into departure. even when i know i'm leaving, i know, i know i'm leaving. even when i know so much is wrong and so much is beauty, and so much beauty is made of confused darkness, and so much confusion is made of the search for beauty.

fumbling humans in beds everywhere, and i one of them.

i just want nature, the nonverbal growth of plants and clouds. i want organica, i want your feelings to be organic, something alive and free, something unfettered by humanity. i'd like there to be one thing humanity could not fetter, i'd like there to be one thing that completely rules us. i feel like nature might be that thing, and i want to become that.

abrah sent me a book. "memoirs of a beatnik" and at first i thought i was going to hate it. i ended up liking it, deeply relating to the author's descriptions of her lovers, to how compelled she was to their disparate beauty.

i feel like i'm never saying what i mean, never getting the heart of the matter, in conversation. in words on pages i seem to do ok, do a little better. in conversations it's too easy for me to understand what the other person may be thinking of my story, my idea, my life, and i begin to edit and clip. megan sees through this sometimes, saying "you don't really think that, do you?" and i shake my head no, no i don't really think i'm being bad, although intellectually i know that the way i'm behaving doesn't align with the philosophy i claim to go by, the honor i claim to ascribe to. my intellectual understanding of myself feels distant these days, however.

sinking into my bed at 4am with headphones on, lost in a world of heaviness and urgent love, weighing a great cosmic misunderstanding in my mind.

i don't really know what i'm talking about, none of this is about what happened, it's just my mind turning, all possibilities colliding in a mental mess. in truth, mundane daily truth, all things exist. these feelings exist and they flow through me and i access them and sometimes they are what i'm making love to inside my belly when i'm telling you that i've had a good day. and sometimes i'm just telling you, i had a good day. i did have a good day. i took care of myself today.

and i never thought i'd tell so many people that i love them.