need more vitamins. need more protein. want to run and kick a ball around. Before exercise comes a revealing of truths or something. having trouble reigniting my creative surge. Where did it go? Need a creative-kick-in-the-ass. ---->maybe look to others image of creativity and beauty as in stolen art books.
so, like, will my words make rhymes that are not protected by a locked chest? will my brain hurt when i fail to connect to the three other parts that once pointed out mean ten times i remember them? will memory start being in my step once again or is it as fragmented as the clothing, books and boxes in a basement haunted in and by minnesota?
what gets created again and again in circles all over everything -- isn't it always inextricably linked to the circles i ran from? and in that process of running away -- did it happen too quickly? have i slash-and-burned tru luv and is chance in abundance? Or is chance just the out of our hands word we use to mean to say choice? and isn't free will referring to the sweet queer boy hidden in all of us (me)? is there a way i can make this verse more real and accessible to my friends around me? Stella is right, "The thing about Poetry, tovah, the thing about Poetry is that it doesn't have to make sense." when hava told me that night in the unmentionable alley (RIP REEF) that i walk around with open love in my heart, well i believed her then but now am trying to see that, see that in myself without looking to others to see it reflecting back at me. self-reflect and then, like, comes self-love, right? perhaps more to that flow than meets my eyes and perhaps, again, it will take three more of these books/blogs/parts to get it straight.
reminders -- listen harder when i am listening. say what i mean. leave notes in tree trunks. think of everyone in life as humans and never as concepts. give up gluten. concepts are not real; humans are realer than anything. take a hotsaltybath. look at the nature more and run in it and don't (try to) conceptualize the nature. sew life-positive messages on to all types of clothing and backpacks.
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2 comments:
I haven't felt what I used to call "inspiration" in a while. Toaster, this makes tomorrow seem like it could be something new. I don't want a concept for a brain. thinking of myself is pretty boring, as usual. I am on the 2nd season of the o.c.; some parts of my life blossom in disorientation. Irony makes up for those dreams I had in highschool that still dominate my interest. only now I am only interested in why it was all futile. time to get out of that rut for real.
this is so great i want to shit (although thinking about the blood maybe ill refrain)
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