Crushes itself against me Oh god
Man. " idk what I'm burping up". On my drive home and still through for days and well weeks. God I'm going to hell Is what I said, when I looked around and saw where I was.
Some of the next people who become trustworthy
I want to ask them about how they manage the aftershocks
Oh god I look at it happening. So much has gone away. I'm very sensitive to this and disappointed about being conscious. For the first time in years I feel subject to harm in the deep night.
On my drive home and still through for days and well months. I saw I was shooting at you, I said well fuck me I'm being led around by the ankles again.
I think spring is a terrifying season. Late this morning I hurried myself into a cold elevator, on its descent I spun round to get a quick view of who might be waiting in the dark, on the silent street. The train trestle like some concrete man's big lazy arm shooting up and arching into the space over my head. It doesn't feel familiar and protective as it usually does. Hey even before that on the train, nothing felt right. I didn't like the sleeping drunk vagrant pretending to the conductress he will get off at the next stop. I did not like the conductress' condescending and loud tone when dealing with this man. I did not like the woman wearing pajama shorts and pulling her coat closer while watching some videos. I hate to think she was forced out at this hour.
Couldn't slip into any music
Because Equal night is considerably more dangerous than the solstices. I think one could argue that the single force of destiny which causes me to observe and react to my environment is as plain as the changing seasons. And a resolve within myself that, though for many people it might be well to assume we are shuffling the seasons along, I am so very shuffled and ruffled by them, we all are.
Bastardly Spring, little new cells, buds budding. Sorry to imagine at cosmogony school or whatever, like religion class or we're with Ptolemy and some other guys--- and we're just measuring and graphing the way things work, with how much disgust could we all be managing the truth of Spring! Dead things which don't stay dead but screech and become fitful all around, they're coming back up no less similar to mold, or pestilence, or evil
Chilled to the bone I was knowing the whole living earth is erupting again. Oh god, and the whole of nature making awful barely discernible noises dripping and suctioning sounds and clinging to your grey and purple nasty flesh! and it's like the season of males, men standing with erections in rows and columns Haha. I see men everywhere staring and arguing and muttering to themselves. I call some of them down "Excuse me boys" that sets them all off, Thinking everything on their faces and being observed by all.
All becomes undead, one fine day, while chained to the upper crust of the earth. Oh Choiceless spring, living, again...
Down this way its Aries Season, fucks me off really, Dead center of my face I'd sure like to put it through, I'm crushed up against it, its crushed up against me.
"I'm gonna be getting to running off again love"
"That's fine dear I hope this time it makes you feel better "
"T'wont"
"Very well love"
I go through it because I put myself in that position. Another thing I wanted to get to, because this window is quite cool the End (pisces) and the Beginning (Aries), I like this neighborhood of the stars. Some thoughts only come once a year. I push a broom across the calendar, babe, I got my head phones in
And the Pisces season reminds me of humanity at large. It is after all the season of "dissolution of consciousness" it is the time of dreams, illusions, fantasy, drunkenness, and whatever else is hidden about collectivity, the final stage, something beyond looking at a person or even group of people. Looking at the force which makes them, at all.
It's the thought of 5,000 years from now. You know, a thought which is so far away, its conceptive image mutually held between those involved in a conversation about it -or how about just between me (the speaker) and you (the weird guy) - has already changed, Blue Shift style. We look out at something not yet real, whose obtainment in reality is still only as mere example in our discourse, and yet we have it wrong, so far out of reach that it remains, and changing. Mwah
That's a big kissss kiss kiss
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