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."
Dust.
I only feel loved when there's thunders from afar; count my lover's heartbeat with the raindrops who gave me flesh, blood and a desire for something else. Is it wrong to look beyond these two handfuls of dust?
Duck love.
”
If you wanna see ducks fuck fuck
if you wanna fuck a quack quack duck
if you see the ducks fuck & wanna fuck a duck
go gawk at the quacking fucking ducks.
“
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?
When they die.
When they die maybe I will have a tea time tasting a world passing me by. When they die. Maybe the window will be wider & the images seem kinder. When they leave me behind again.
Chicken biz.
I look to my chicken for entertainment. It's always the same, and yet in the moment. Grasses' good, grains' better. She doesn't discriminate for there's an egg to be made.
Mother.
I want to lick a squirrel’s butt.
I want to lick the squirrel's butt. Follow the flickering tail to the acorn stash. It's perky like a kids' lunchbox, stealing food like it's the best kept secret. Rousing turf war, no friends nor enemies. Ok, you can linger since you're this year's kid. Next time you better be ready for a chase. Oh, they're gone, I wonder how a squirrel tastes?
Spring.
I watch the spring through fisheye lenses. What I see triggers reaction from the other end which it processes duly like any excrements leaving behind some vague memory of experience. Strange that I've never compelled to be in it. Tried all my might to shorten the distance. Body gives feedback of pleasant sensations plus pain. I ask myself again what drug am I not taking?
Between death dates.
I'm closer to Y's death date than X's death date. Wonder if I will beat Betty White's record. It's too late to flame out in a glaze of vomit. Just hoping I don't out last my bank balance. As long as my death date's later than my parents', and there's no new birth date to be remembered. No worries if other generations fall off the calendar. No strings attached I can roam free of charges.
hotsurf_ 