Friday, November 27, 2009

thoughts (fragments)

it's funny that we kiss slowly because my heart rate's insect wings. but it is slow. _so o _s l o w.
__- i forgot how pleasant this was.
__- maybe you should stop disappearing for days huh?
a car passes, its headlights smiling at us.
the warmth and light of the night lingers, hands in pockets, not yet ready to roll over, shut its
eyes to us. to those darker parts that'll roll around eventually.

so this must be life. _something you forget and find again, _like keys.

chumpstick and chumpsicle we are you and i.
and i've never lost a friend, though there's a bunch i don't speak to anymore, _so that's that.
__say what you want, we're both getting the omelet (again).

Serious Man ends. credits start. i don't notice it at first, takes a minute to hit me, surprise impact. like a car accident. or terminal disease. unexpected package at your door.
receive simply all that happens to you. _yes, _well, __that sums it all up pretty nicely ; my palms open upwards, like two strange monochrome flowers, skin tingly.
___afterwards i ramble about the failure of karmic logic - that God/Hashem/Allah/our Misplaced Father who art where? owes us nothing more than the heartbeat we have and occasionally not even that, and the nonagenarian rabbi who quotes Jefferson Airplane, and Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and fourteen breathless minutes and four red-lights later, it occurs to me, why? is a question devoid of even the possibility of an answer.

i suppose a better question would be so what?

since then i've stopped believing in hometowns. __love's a sudden fall, _maybe. _just: maybe. __even so, a smart man still edges down the diving board slowly. ___then there's faith. which i'm still ok with - to the extent it doesn't detract from the pleasure of sex, chemical highs, lazer lights, cell phones, the right to eat meat, justified rage, and a filthy mouth. apart from that three cheers for the Bearded Guy who invented the mango, decided oscillating perpendicular magnetic and electric waves shall be deemed light, and was the first to try out a 69er to make sure it was safe for the rest of us. ___but, seriously, believe what you want, i'm telling you right now there's no such thing as stability. nothing stays the same. there's a mountain where a tombstone once stood and a garden of weeds brat-faced-teens pee in where Atlantis should be. plan what you want, measure your life out in coffee spoons, do what you gotta do - cancer, infidelity or an otherwise existential crisis is lickin its lips lookin at your thighs right now. just sayin.

i'll be honest, i see myself as 14 thousand butterflies engaged in an extraordinary feat of organized motion. __i've lost at everygame it's possible to lose in, have $6 to my name, have 2x 5mg dexamphetamine and a coffee for breakfast, disappear for days on end sitting on my couch staring off at nothing i haven't had a creative thought in weeks i don't have time to call my mother i have names of friends in my phone but few to kick rocks with i'm growing older by the day and for everything i supposedly know i believe none of it not a word i believe only that happiness isn't a must have it's a gourmet vanilla icecream you paid too much for, it's remembering the path you used to walk to school down everyday, it's kissing girls you like, listening to music too loud, watching a bunch of movies, feeling great about masturbating till you're dehydrated and after all that it eventually dawned on me, one night, around 4am as i whimpered softly to myself and rubbed red eyes redder and fumed and cried into a bowl of too-sweet cereal: life isn't a game of win and lose.__ frankly, i'm starting to doubt if it's a game at all. more frankly, it's not really all that much fun, there are no rules, nothing we can all agree on, not a single one. so what're you gonna do?right, you throw some together, borrow some, amend some, read a couple of books and quote a few you think you outta agree with and keep your eyes focussed on the to-do list until your heart's filled with fat, your lungs with tar, your head's soo loud they got you takin my thingamjigees to quieten it all out, or your DNA decides to eff-you and warps itself into nails and matchsticks where your liver once was. wake up one day your bone marrow's making the emerald water flowing down the Styx instead of red and white blood cells and your bones crack clean and tidy like KitKats. _what kind of game is that? ___i see myself as... these ten trees got together and put together what they'd saved up and bought me a mouth and 9 lives and are hoping i come back to them with something worthwhile. ___i see myself as the last few memories an angel's having, soon to be forgotten so i can have my eyelids kissed by sheer amazing delicious impeccable untainted pristine nothingness (how sweet the sound).

otherwise, i'm just another car on the road. too hot under the sun and late for a service.

one day soon i'm gonna have my brain back.
my own thoughts. whatever they are (were).
it's too clear this lake. not a ripple. it's creeping my out, i keep thinking it's frozen over.

do you believe that dreams can be severed from us? from our heads or whatever? detached from a person and from nighttime or sleepytime or whatever, and just kind of roam around. hovering in the air like a scent or pollen that makes you sneeze. and every now and then you breathe one in and imagine an ace of clubs for no reason. or an upside down tree with a trunk growing upwards. you see some old guy you've never seen before (and someone else is chatting to your grandfather). and you're at the drink fountain and inexplicably you hear a canticle in your head, or the ocean while it rains so you can't tell the waves from the drops hitting, or you're driving home and you see Chagall and his wife flying over-head holding umbrellas. is that a thing you believe?

1 comment:

ashleigh said...

i still love everything you're writing. don't change.