Eruption

My path
Is, always has been,
And
Always will be
To be
Different.

Dissuasion,
Try as it might,
Is futile
At best.

Because now is the time to write.
Because now is the time to make meaning.
Because now is always the time.
Because the time is never now.
Because,
Otherwise,
When else are you going to do it?

The past looms up
Large
In unexpected moments,
And we can’t help but be
Transported
To all those feelings,
All that time,
That reality,
That mind
That no longer is,
But rather was.

And we think of it fondly
In its perpetual difference from now:
Sometimes pining for
And sometimes railing against
It.

To all the words that floated away,
My deepest,
Humblest
Apologies.

Dedicated to Absence

It hurts.
It’s like a gnawing.
Or a pain that seems to center itself right over your heart.
It’s a bit like the worst case of heartburn ever.
It’s a bit like your big toe wishing it would just fall off your foot,
And doing everything it can
To make this come to pass.

Caution.
Caution be damned.
There’s no reason to say “from here on out,” because we
Both know it’s bullshit, so what we’ll try to say
And what we’ll try to be is something, somebody worthy of the title
Of human. But when that
Fails, what do we do then?

Whereas society has caused us to come to loathe or own education;
Whereas society has given us roads but no motivation to travel them;
Whereas freedom in this society is a kind of enslavement;
Whereas it is absolutely simple to make someone look at you like a madman;
Whereas we wander slowly (sometimes quickly) away from our own ideals;
Whereas “Fuck you!”;
Whereas I don’t care about my credit rating;
Whereas I’m done caring about whether or not others care;
Whereas there is very little left to say;
Whereas you probably don’t want to hear me say it;
Whereas I will be called un-American/communist/socialist;
Whereas I don’t give a rat’s ass when people improperly use their own language;
Whereas the previous whereas is a rather serious lie;
Whereas it hurts me to see what’s become of such a proud species;
Whereas it appalls me to see what’s become of such a proud species;
Whereas we ought to know better;
Whereas you don’t understand;
Whereas you can’t understand as a result of you being you and me I;
Whereas I can feel the blood pumping through my brain;
Whereas I dislike/HATE television;
Whereas there is almost nothing left to do or say;
Whereas I have been all over and seen and done much research;
Whereas the time has come for a new movement;
Whereas I would like to be thrown in jail to mooch off the taxpayer’s money;
Whereas American culture is vacuous;
Whereas Western culture is insipid;
Whereas Human culture is dead;

I hereby declare my independence from the human race.
I hereby declare that I will be honest to the best of my ability.
I hereby declare that I will be as faithful as my humanity allows.
I hereby declare that truthfulness will guide my actions in as many venues as possible.
I hereby declare my inevitable failure.
I hereby declare my intention to continually try.
I hereby declare my hatred for the television culture that has gripped the species.
I hereby declare that what you’ll get from me is nothing but me.
I hereby declare that if you ask me honestly, you’ll get an honest answer.
I hereby declare my intention to work hard.
I hereby declare my intention to love my family, whoever they turn out to be.
I hereby declare that money has no real value: it’s all imaginary.
I hereby declare that a characteristic of imaginary value is appearing truly important.

I’m full of shit.
I’m as trapped as we all are.
You know you’re trapped right?
No escaping it.

To end it all would be a wild ride.
Imagine the mindset
That allows for that kind of decision.
It’d have to be ferocious.

There is no way to win, but not because of what you’re thinking.
There is no way to win because life is not a competition.
That’s the nut.
That’s why bringing business into the spiritual side of humanity
Was simultaneously the nailing down of the coffin lid.
Fuck business.

My mom once told me that the goal of working
Was to give me more free time.
Imagine that: working in order to have time to do something else.

It’s all backwards.
Anybody with eyes can see it is.
And yet nobody cares.
Good-bye.
Fuck you in the nicest, gentlest, lovingest way.
You made of me a hard heart.
I go out no wiser, harder, and more prepared to deal
With the unending crap that’s
The inevitable result of simply being alive.

What ever happened to love?
Where’d it go?
Did it ever really matter?

We feel things all the more when we know they are
being somewhere else (even if it's perhaps).