I think I've been wrong, mistaken being weak with strong. All the judgements & indignations, yet taken no actions. There's the sense of loss, plus the rage & escapes. But why am I still here? Just to stand around? Maybe I will be happy, by chance, to help someone, anyone. It's always been an excuse, that "I felt deeply, & cared too much."
Category: let live
Belong.
The ones that belong here no longer belong here. Those that pretend to belong here were made to remain here. Those that belong here spiritually don't get to be here peacefully. Those that need to be here materially get to destroy here completely. Who belongs here? Long journey where?
Pulsate with me.
We miss things, you & I while we pulsating. Breath for breath, amp for amp. On the same frequency. Which is why we need others to catch it. The ones we don't get, whom will shine a light so that we share the pulsating heartbeat.
The Missing.
I know it will end in black, but now it's alright. Tired of looking back, every two steps, for new angles of attack. "Not good enough," a corner to hide. Never face myself, don't know what's left. A miracle, being alive. What's missing is the crime.
Space.
I want that space where I won't be judged where I won't be rushed. I want that space where I can lay back or get fired up. There are wonders that can't be made nor planned, but to be witnessed & protected from the ones who like to possess, who impose order over what they don't even understand. I want life & death under the stars & sky. I want that space, again.
We sweep the earth.
We sweep the earth.
Our backs bend towards the heavens.
The moist from our lips
giving thanks to the land.
We sweep the earth
to comfort the spirits of the dead.
The feathers in our hairs,
we & the spirits are one.
We sweep the earth
when it’s angry & the rivers weep.
Forgive our sins.
We are your children.
We sweep the earth.
It’s time to sleep & to wake.
We sweep the earth
for another splendid day.
Easter.
A fresh world of dews.
Are we the ego,
that batters you so?
Seeking lord & kings
to ride along with,
conquering.
There’s a god for
all things and
we’re part of,
not just for women
but for turtles
and mosquitos.
The grass can
hear the command,
why do we hide
like sin?
What’s wrong
with being?
My demon half.
Yo, I got a demon half who agrees
with everything the president’s saying.
Fuck the weak, we got an image to
maintain, you know what I’m saying?
But then I remember why I feel so bad
for so long & it’s all coming to a head.
Life ain’t about the chosen few if
you ain’t one of them.
You’re exceptional, we’re exceptional but
the foundation’s crumbling
like the ice, like them trees, like them
slaves that we keep denying.
Yeh, accumulation creates the wealth but
nature demands even distribution, too.
Just shows it ain’t about the money,
it’s the power of who gets to stay on top
and do the fucking.
I’m sick of the “necessary” evils that are
organically made by a corrupted society.
Hold a loved one in your mind before you act,
no, not yourself, for Christ’s sake!
Can’t take the criticism? Then stop
calling this a democracy.
If this is the best we can do
then what is there to save?
What of death?
My left lung feels like there’s lead in it. My head is not clear, my effort at paying attention comes and goes. No, I don’t have that one, but some other one. Is this what fading feels like?
I lay on the bed, looking through the window. The world is the same, starkingly beautiful. Yeh, I know that’s not a word. I don’t care. I’m tired of googling things. I’m tired.
Oh, yeh, I look through the window, into the sky, into the white patch that’s covered by 5% of my eyes, the mind makes up the rest. I notice the light’s fading in and out, in and out. I get curious, so maybe this is what dying feels like?
When the lung is not working properly, nothing much goes. I wonder if the lack of oxygen coursing through the body will make people stupider. But no, people are plenty stupid already. Case in point.
Is it my fault? What’s happening now? Did I wish for it? Is it a wakeup call? A cleansing? Nature’s thriving again. The seeds must be sowed, for the future. Why should I care?
I’m not afraid of death. I often say it would solve all my problems. That doesn’t stop me from romanticizing it though. Isn’t that what we do? Chocolate, sex, glitters, death.
I’m afraid of living with no purpose. And since I’m still breathing, with one lung, or 1 1/2, the work is not done.
All is well. Whatever that means.
They.
“They” is not for me,
it’s for them
who only sees a woman
to be impregnated
or just a man
to be domesticated.
“She” & “He” work perfectly
though only momentarily,
then the spirit rises & wanes,
you may know me differently.
But don’t be confused,
it’s me as a whole.
You may be surprised
pleasantly or otherwise.
Which is the big deal
now you need to know,
not everyone’s binary
that fit into your ideals.
“They” is for you.
hotsurf_ 