I've always been in mourning, wasn't sure for what. I mourned the end since the beginning. What a joke. Blamed everyone. It's my sentiment: turning away from life as a coward.
Author: hotsurf
Like to travel, read, play cello etc.
Thankful.
I'm a woman of subtle grievance. It doesn't hurt my body none but the spirit is dragging. "Why me?" I ask, "to see all the shits?" And be unhappy like I'm the one and only. Well, well, maybe the reason's obvious but the courage is lacking or it's the little things like timing. Someday I may decide there are memories worth having, and pain & joy are one and the same.
Organic people.
I don't get organic people. Don't they have to fight to be left alone? They blend in like soil to the rich, stinky mystery of life. Do they not question that? Is there nothing amiss? Why am I always the dissonance, a rip in the sanctity of the goddamn peace and quiet.
In hell.
If hell is the absence of love that's where I grew up. Just to make it interesting I'm afraid of everywhere else. Maybe that's why "life" is addictive there's space to hide & run. If you squint, smirk & spit enough it almost feels like heaven.
Black sun.
In my mind, I'm a rich white man cruising around not giving a damn. In my mind, in my mind. In my spirit, I'm an old witch burning fat candles for kins' woes. In my spirit, in my spirit. In my soul, I'm a lost child nothing to look for & nowhere to go. In my soul, in my soul. In my eyes, the black sun burns bright I know I can't fight, I look to you instead. In my eyes, in my eyes.
Little worm.
The worm in me like fragile broken things- ruins that are permanent with death where everything happened & done with. The little worm whispers & squirms. A seed conceived by despair & lust- in bed with red mist of mosquitos spreading decay of doubt & fear, eating away at the core. Happy little worm.
A hug and a wink.
Time doesn't wait, all I can go by is a hug & a wink. Minds don't change. Last night's fragrance whispers a hug & a wink. We say goodbyes. The weather outside gifts a hug & a wink.
Belief.
Believe in fiction, reality is boring. Believe in fiction, reality's outta reach. Believe in friction, peace is over-rated. Believe in fiction, nobody gives a shit.
Control.
Hijack this life of mine- no purpose & no reply. Giving up control for the chance to ride- to the top: a brief sunshine.
Bird.
Hi, hi, hi, this is the view when I die: leafy branches covering the sky. Before I close my eyes, like a bird with imperfect wings going home to rest.
hotsurf_ 