(0249) meditation on the medication

a quickness that sheltered the feelings. a look to the left to proceed. i walk out the building unchanged and decentered... a death in the false pretense not seen.

i frequently can't seem to focus on what it is i would like to and should. i trip over my miscalculations and get confused when reading this book.

there's nothing i've done to deserve it. broken glass stuck inside of my head. i carry on with my sickness, and you look at me like i'm dead.

trepidation continues without absence. they see nothing, and i walk away. a long drive with nothing to look at; with no blood wasted... as i fade out along the way.

a journey to make things get better but slowly getting nowhere each month. the chemicals get mixed up with the money, and the moon gets mixed up with the sun.

no one ever seems to even be there. everyone's too busy tonight. i could probably vanish if i wanted to, but there'd probably be nothing to blame but my sight.

it's all the same when you look from a distance. a boulevard, an avenue, a street, a dead-end. i'll think of the past just to remind myself that nothing ever turns out as planned.

she holds all the keys and locks all the locks. he stumbles and fumbles for an exit. a beautiful place to have seen you. an ugly place to have to remain.

the telephone call that i regret and a staircase i've fallen in love with. this is all i have to leave in my place. it's not his fantasy, and it sure as hell is not a myth.

i close my eyes just for a moment and try to let time have what's left. a drink that i wish i could taste. if i could commit a crime, it would be theft.

(0248) crashing cars into power lines

fuck you if you think you can touch me. i'll diminish right in front of your eyes. now, these cuts have been lost on their meaning, and it's impossible to open a door just to get inside. a stellar contraction awaits me. i'm shifting back into the mud. there's nowhere i have to call home now. there's nothing i have that's my own. it's the blandest of intense negotiations between the only rationale left in my head. a curse that can never be broken and words that can never be spoken. intention is only half the equation, and the vicious cycle continues to no perceivable end. i only wish i could be oblivious enough to where i wouldn't have to try to pretend. i can see for myself that it's over. if only they knew where i've been.

i'll drain all this blood in the forefront. a dying echo gets caught in my brain.
i've already repeated the endings. i've already repeated your name.
there are no more favors to ask now. i'm just making shit up as i go.
you'll probably make it back before i do. a hollow reflection traced out in snow.
a pair of scissors to cut through delusions and double-sided tape wrapped around my heart.
it only catches an ill-fated eye glance, and i'm still sitting alone in the dark.
the fear follows me to typical places and helps me from crashing this car.

i call it an obsession with being too in touch with my thoughts, but it's really a curiosity of feeling... a curiosity with connecting the dots. and all i am missing is a sequence to tell me which line should go where. karma's a bitch when you need it to help you, and the truth is neither there nor here.

so tell me if the sun isn't lonely, and i'll do what i can to be a friend. a shipwrecked vessel falling into the ocean and then floating back up to the surface again. this is the beginning and end.

they told me i wouldn't remember, but i can't even forget. lightning strike - it purifies and erases debt. he turns out the lights and dwells on what he still has not said.

(0247) circumvent the odds

i knew this was here, but in the back of my mind, i forgot where it had been when i needed it.

and like a comet stretched by in the corner of my eye, i felt the sun rushing in to fill this vacancy.

and the cast i had worn reminded me of a born-again christian who promised me endless suffering.

just then, the hurricane came in, and with the flick of a switch, we were floating together; side by side with our common curiosity.

these impossible hours give me all the benefits of a shower without wasting one drop of that pure, essential chemical.

i think if i was to die, i would be the last one to cry, but i'd secretly hope that you, soon, would be following.

i comb the oceans for clues, but it doesn't seem like much use... a shuttered lens has retracted its offering.




and i awake from this dream, faded delusions and all... thanks to morphine and the pills that i keep choking on.

this too will soon rot away. there'll be endless fields in which to play. sixteen stitches were only the start of it.

i can see through my head a mix of pesticide and lead that will eventually bring me down to a lunatic's paradise.

the garbage overflows in these streets. there's not the slightest feeling of heat, and the birds have all sang their last, rhythmic melody.

a cascading collapse for the billions who have still yet to pass through this twisted and unusual portrayal of manifest destiny.

they'll say it's still up to you. you can choose what you want to improve. but all the while, i'll be sleeping in silence.

"you can go as far as you'd like. it's just a matter of how hard you try." what a lie. what a scam. what an attitude.




they'll rearrange all your bones until the broken ones are fully exposed. there's no night. there's no day. there's no decency.

so i'm here in these words crafting something that's almost as absurd and obtuse as this affectively flattened and tired face of mine.

and i'm cutting through trees with a blade that's so hard to please and the pleasure of seeing something that i've personally damaged.

one day, we'll be free from this contagious disease that we can't seem to shake even if we wanted to.

so don't look in my eyes. it burns right through this disguise, and it makes me feel weak without my parachute.

the electrodes were placed in such an arrangement that traced out the origins of my fear and anxiety.

and now i'm a walking cliché, but all the words that i say will have new meaning once my hunger for understanding is satisfied.

(0246) a forgotten and misplaced perspective

remnants of a false superiority complex. drag it in deep until nothing else is exposed.

i got up this morning with a symptomatic curse of no remorse, and i burned my hands under the lukewarm water as i often seem to do.

the unspeakable feelings we know just like the disappearing arc throughout the day. and it waits, and it waits, and it waits until there's nothing left to say. i gave all i could just to see the sun crash down into my face.

i gave all i could just to see the instantaneous collapse. and i sank, and i sank until the future got mixed up with an all-too-familiar past. someday, my ship will sail in, and i'll be waiting at the docks. i'll stand here forever just to catch the smallest glimpse of that volcano if it ever erupts. the plastic entropy of always trying to force my way outside towards the light. the unstoppable conclusions that are always heading for the dry heat spells of the night. i picked up my skin and realized it didn't feel right. i picked up my skin and hurried past my bloodshot eyes. one more breath, and it probably would have felt okay to die. two more breaths - well - that probably wouldn't have ended up so nice.

i got up this morning just to go back to bed like every other day. i got up this morning and realized i had forgotten to pay. my soul was on loan from a shark that agreed to scare the tourists away. pray to god that i make it into heaven before hell has been condemned... and pray to satan that i make it into hell before heaven ever takes me in...

she just plays dumb, and who could really blame her anyway? he just plays the guitar. it's not like there's anything else worth doing in this hidden place. the fragile get crushed like little ants when they're not looking towards the sky. we all must compete like dogs if we're gonna want to taste of that rotten apple pie.

(0245) the light at the end of the tunnel or a parallel universe hidden in these outdated maps

i record with a camera in the back of my mind.
it's fourth and goal, but i'm still twenty points behind.
the clocks - they change - but time never passes by.
i try to race you, but i never take off from the starting line.
i haven't had a sip since i closed my eyes.
seems impossible to taste, but it doesn't hurt to try.
i'm building my coffin with nothing pretty inside.
there will be no one to my left and no one to my right.

i'll stay in one place until they make water out of oil
and pour it into my veins through this hardened crust of soil.
you'll dig me out, and we'll dance on top of my grave
there will be no blood, and there will be no need for time nor space.

the embargoes were lifted, and i had to go to sleep without you.
i get stuck to silly reasonings without adhesives such as tape or glue.
the bombs in my eyes were falling without purpose,
and the explosions i saw never even made me feel nervous.

i count up the change, and i tear off this page.
i slipped on a loose thought as i was walked out of this cave.
it only seems to gets worse with each passing hour.
i'll admit that i'm much more bitter than sweet or sour.

and if they come to take me, i won't go down without a fight. i'll pour confusion like cement and light their house on fire without the slightest scent of smoke. the convection will stretch from the seeds of this deprivation to the leaves still blowing in the wind. it'll cover the bodies left over from your cancerous deceipt... in the end, there will be nothing useful to harvest, and the ground will cease to conform to our flagrant and misplaced, silent offerings. a book full of death to the extent that it's living and a pen full of ink to the extent that it's drowning. say goodnight before the cyanide and carbon monoxide say it for you. a chamber of eternal hibernation awaits. our innocent memories of youth will clean up the remains once and for all. don't be shocked by what you witness there. it's only for tonight.

(0244) split-second choreography

i had a conversation with a ghost next to my bed. he told me not to worry. "things will be okay," he said. i popped a pill and let it work its way throughout my heavy head. i fell asleep and had a dream that nothing ever turned to sand or bled.

i wake up every morning not feeling what i felt the night before. you'd think that that'd be nice, but there are certain things you can't ignore. if i had enough finances, i'd like to believe i'd feed the poor. but when the hunger strike has ended, would you think that less is more?

there's silence in the gutter, but you can't hear it on the street. there's something in my heart, but there is nothing up my sleeve. i do the dishes and my laundry, but i can't concentrate and read. we have a hopeful destination, but we can't seem to proceed.

and the interesting part to me is not something i could write. i wish i could've slept right there when i looked into those eyes, but it's nothing that you haven't seen. it's nothing made of light. it's just something that has permanently been etched into my mind.

the doctor comes and goes, but most of the time, he's diagnosing illnesses. he checks out of his office; goes home to his wife and kids. a cell phone and a pager - barely has the time to live. but me, i'm stuck at home with wandering thoughts and sinking crutches.

i still cannot believe that i survived underneath all of that snow. there was someone in the attic. this is something that's undeniable. when the train never arrived, i didn't know exactly what to do or where to go. i just knew that i would find my way back if i followed in the direction of my shadows.

so guilt becomes a commodity and a by-product of fear. it's really not surprising then that the rationality of my thoughts slowly disappeared. so i had to fix the leaking holes with my own fucked up, mangled hands. i threw a penny in the water and it never reappeared.

and in the depth perception wraparound, i was haunted by my string theory, romanticized and empty past. a conversational industry built on nothing that's really actually meant to last. i had my summer and winters mixed up in a twisted and sarcastic, fleeting track. we'll never be there again. we'll never be on the other side of this glass. what was once considered an accident will now always be considered fate. if i could break the ice with a melody, i could melt it with a similar tune. if only i had the nerve to create, and i could do it sometime soon.

honesty was never shallow, and metaphors will never go out of fashion. breathe and hold this in until i've been made aware of my insatiable passion. what right have you to take this away?



"my love becomes a mange dyeing autumn in its leaves when it broke me in the branch where my antlers come to feed... and i swam a hundred days in the bosom of this filth. carry on this drought as i tighten my belt..."

(0243) a tepid arrangement lacking in focus

i beg your pardon mister, don't you understand... that the sun is like a four-leaf clover.
it's just coughing in our direction, and its luck is not a sign of starting over.
so when you're coming up without a parachute, don't be surprised when you start falling.
you can try to cut me with that knife in your pocket but be aware that these claws are for clawing.

there will never be another reminder so make sure that you do it good.
for when the days are creeping slowly after, my love is something that should not be misunderstood.
the bomb goes off, and we go insane because there's nothing left to make us feel empty.
we close our eyes, but the feeling remains. he says it's like a death sentence that his outer shell is ugly.

his heart is like a big umbrella that just melts with the slightest taste of rain.
he'll cut his nose off to spite his face, but when the moment comes, he won't be afraid.
the clock is always calling out his name. it always gets the last laugh at the end of the day.
i know exactly what it is i need and want, but i never have the words to say.

told you twice to cut it out. i drift in and out of consciousness without ever losing sight.
and if i ever had a story to tell, then tonight would be the perfect night.
run with me until we've gotten far away from here, and we'll take shelter in a serotonin storm.
weather man says it's getting very cold outside, but for some reason, i feel very warm.

make believe i'm someone else inside this place because being myself here would never get me by.
i'm just an orphan of my own condition. i'm just a scab growing over your eyes.
it's not my fault if i'm not worth any emotion. i walk a thin line inside my head.
but i'm not getting closer to the land of contentment. no, it's a lie that we've been told instead.

there's blood pouring out from your eyes and a stomach, hollow and alone.
i'll keep you in the safeness of my words. there's nothing quite as pure; nothing quite as gold.
the dirt has been filling up my veins; contaminating me like pesticide.
filtered through the hands that carry the disease in your sharpened, darkened eyes.

and if you think you'll be able to escape, then i've got something to work its way through the layers of your skin.
a piece of paper and a pen. a piece of paper and a pen. i take a pen and write it down on paper, and it begins.
the world seems to fall away - the world that you can't notice.
you contort to the sound of these death chords. a tepid arrangement lacking in focus.

(0242) day of reckoning

i tore my skin off, and it didn't matter. the starlight disappears. i shake. chained up to my own mind and a dissipated heart. full of fear. i can't breathe. i can't see. swallow down the lies i shouldn't have told myself. the tired, aching voice of my whispers.

so instinctive...
feed the weakness...
connect the dots to find... a broken wish inside.
the tires come off the car. the face regains its scars.
a new song in the dark. it's not heard. it's not felt.

my false gods - they fucked me over.

so distracted...
a chemical reaction...
a silent confession. we all walk until we're dead.
the wheels fall off the cart. the face sees all its marks.
a new song in the sky. i'm falling from too high.

i can't go in. too afraid to see that cute grin. the angel in her trance. a victim of her circumstance. i look away way too fast. get lost inside her ugly past. a tiny voice inside. a broken wish i can't hide.

i wake up. i wake up. slowly.
i stand up. i stand up. lonely.
i fall down. i fall down... face first.
i put on. i put on... that blue shirt.
i'm bleeding. i'm bleeding. secretly.
i'm leaving. i'm leaving. empty.

(0241) fill this void with disaster

the rain is a sham just like our great uncle sam and the beggars in suits on the right who always want more. and just like their god and all of your deluded fantasies, i won't be around if they come knocking upon my door. the picture's faded and your smile's gone in a matter of seconds which were lost in that ugly, artificial light. i was shutting down. i was falling towards the ground. i guess they call that assimilated response fight-or-flight. but now my ship's coming in, and the day is dead... guess i'll starve at the end of the line. old-world promise can't hold up anymore. back and forth, just trying to pay attention to all the stupid signs.

with your fishbowl eyes and the needle threaded twice, i have caught up to the front of the line. they said, "it's cold outside," but i couldn't decide as i watched the farmers paint under the sky. my wounds have been licked clean, and i'm feeling free to bleed wherever i decide to stretch out. i haven't sold my soul for the company gold - no, it's a lie that you can't even wish to live without. so i pay for my food and throw it in my face, and i hope to god i choke to death. nothing tastes right when you regain your sight after losing the only things you had left.

there's a splintering silence and a hole in his heart that can never be filled again. she said, "the end is near" and walked right through his skin as some metaphorical coffee rushed straight to his brain right then. momma always told him to stand up straight and never talk to people you don't know. what a shame, what a shame... it's a pointless game as we all bite into the cancerous possibilities of what's referred to as tomorrow. i saw the big, black cloud as it covered my face and covered up any actual, hopeless chance of change. we pilfered all the things that we had wanted back and never thought that things would stay the same.

these cryptic words were only half asleep when they had been awakened by a shooting star. all we have is some blood that slowly moves through our bodies, and we're trapped in this crashing car. we cannot escape; we cannot comprehend all the damage that is already done. they said, "it's getting warmer outside," but i couldn't decide as i watched the farmers paint under the sun. the bomb is dropped, and i bite my lip as my lover stands next to me. i wake up with solemn air and peace of mind, and then i fall right back to sleep.

(0240) linear distraction

move along. nothing to see. crossed my fingers and had barely a shred left of honesty to my feelings. vaccine stuck in my veins. forgot to rhyme the verses in reverse... this paycheck will probably be voided before i can even have it cashed. another one stuck in my neck, but the dead will be resurrected soon enough. torso with a depressed ribcage floating down the river. picked my amnesia up off the kitchen table and had it for lunch. call it the agoraphobic consequences of my shattered day without a neon sun. the grass has been dead for years now... water must be contaminated. a guilty sentence filled only by time because time reflects life, and life is leaving. two hours to go, and my mind is cracking. tell the customers it's all over... and that the bottled water is down aisle thirteen... and the sugar - down aisle seven. frantic thoughts ensue. he said, "i must go," and he never came back.

the cats were oblivious to their suffering. all they wanted to do was sleep. if only we could get some sleep and be baptized in our dreams... only then, we'd be worth our weight in emotional trauma. the new world order expected the same with a different result. they expected the same but rejoiced with no shame when the world started falling apart; when their ideology was crippled. they were detrimental in their own right and useless by rational standards. secrets that weren't to be spoken, but the doors have now been busted open. i drank from that endless fountain of youth until i drowned in my self-indulgence.

my fingers walked off without my hands as i held onto my breath for what seemed like an eternity. this mental decay and social stagnation transformed into a postmodern delusion of extroversive insecurity, punctuated by a broken face. every word i've ever uttered has just become a wasted moment, fleeting in my memory and everyone else's. what a fucking lie. just stab this pen into my brain to relieve the swelling and go to bed without a dime's worth of difference. take another pill and hope i'll be different in the morning, but i doubt it. embryonic contusion grown to the size of a demented reality without any visible evidence to prove my case. lost inside of a crushing wave of futility on my way to death... or as we would like to hope for some insufficient reasoning, rebirth.

life was never as it appeared from far away. passed out in my bedroom and awoke two hours later with a non-alcoholic hangover.

(0239) loose change

block out this writer's block so i can't forget. block out this writer's block so i won't forget.

with a gun in my hand and your heart as my demand, i crack my knuckles. i hold on to these responses for some magnetic tape delayed impulse. severed an artery four inches away from my defeated lungs. the compass in my car says to go the other way so i act accordingly.

dithering between hopelessness and a discontinued emotion. the latter comes at great expenditure but pays back in gold, tenfold. seeked out some comfort in another lost soul. damaged by its damaged face and saved by its only saving grace. a lead-filled, composite component reacting nicely with a sordid, ambiguous raindrop. pressing down on plastic keys underneath fingertips to sort out my lame, frozen desires. ice cream. ice cream would help me to write. ice cream and some cake. nevermind.

once beholden to the facts, i left my surroundings to become new again. the old man whistled while he worked, the young girl destroyed herself with a required, multifaceted personality, and i trembled.

said to the stone, "i know no more," and left my oxygen for somebody else. this is a light that will never burn out. i can tell.

a distant impression traveling through numbers on a fucked up train of sorrow. just let it sink in until it's time.

there's change in my pocket, and you can take whatever you want.

(0238) decompose and deconstruct

i felt the wind beneath me howl. a mortgage too late to pay and a sky turning gray.
detached at the hips. burns on the lips... and all because of some coffee that was too hot to sip.

another day and another place. another piece of skin left behind.
and the fake laughter goes on forever like a baby's piercing eyes.
cemetery lacking a voice in the wind. coughing up the only blood remaining.
stabbed myself in the back and never looked back.
walked around clueless; unaware of my grip.
promised myself i would find help only to find hurt.
made my bed with carelessness, and now i pay the price.
i have become washed out. useless. but enough of that.
i just hope they save you, and that's all that matters.

decomposed; resting in peace with all the other animals.
deconstruct all these chalk outlines until she's gone to sleep.
i was once the traffic in these cold, empty streets - tailor-made to the specs of your heart.
i was standing still like the frozen stare that was carved on your face.
i was fading fast under surgical clamps i could only wish to describe... turn off the lights...

i check the time. half past the moon as it beckons the sun.
i turn left and end up at a dead-end.

three years of a wasted effort. "no more mistakes," i tell myself.
right then, i get a phone call. a familiar voice.
talk back as i fold some clothes i had forgotten to wash. fuck.
write down these words just to erase them later.
thoughts that never existed. only in our heads. only in our hearts.
bipolar trust fund. three pills a day keeps the doctor away.
i collapse and forget. we fade to black.
an empty canvas under my fingernails, begging to be put to use.

(0237) social politics

i made you a simple plate of sin
full of horribly vague transgressions
the paper looks incredible, but the ink is still the same
i know it's hard to memorize my name
but i found the perfect place
it's like an electronic maze
we search for each other all night and day
but we still don't know what we're supposed to say
we build up our happiness
until there's no meaning behind the feeling of a touch
i'm so aware, i couldn't fake this if i tried
there's nothing back behind these silhouettes
but an illusion of ourselves
i've walked this path way too many times

if this won't complicate my face, i'd like to say i'm far ahead
of this typical routine of waiting for a sign
i'm just a stranger in your mind
so come back and tell me what it was that you were holding in
i'll peel off my skin until you start to realize
that i will count back from infinity... if you want to... know me
i'll set myself on fire because there's nothing left to lose
i'm digging up these bones to find some truth

oceans apart, we crawl
a little bit more each day
silence and chemicals, they cover up the taste
of technology and foreign waste
i know it's a lot to ask; you wait, then you come right back
a mixture of bitterness and sweet
but even i have found the leaky holes inside these clouds
i fell through one and got lost along the way
because i love the midnight sky, and i love to chase the moon
but i barely seem to have the will to move

trying to shift these gears
an eight-hour shift of fear
it ends with a telephone call and a longing for alcohol
we find life the funniest because it's the biggest joke of all

(0236) white noise dreams

i try this new phase
a pleasured conversation with no taste
i coughed up some misfortune yesterday
a sign that says to go the other way

she feels ugly in this lived-in skin
a sunken tale of what's been taken from within
feel the raindrops pouring out her eyes
a picture-perfect day with no sunlight

so prepare for your judgement day
it won't matter what you wish to say
so reactive... like a neon sun
filling up our bodies on the run

i'm astounded by your lack of self
you choose to hijack hearts and kill 'em off
almost ugly, the way you comprehend
maybe you should be on medicine

- - -

i won't save her. i'll let her find her way
she'll need to learn to do some kinds of work with no pay
silver lining gets lost in this fax machine
a mass of animals trying to fall asleep

three more years until we're allowed to exhale again
will we make it out, or will we fail?
so report all of your inconsistencies
it'll be a turning point, at least

flower painting in my white noise dreams
teach me how to understand the schemes
of this silence, and of this dignity
leave me with those dying, lonesome leaves

walk forever, until we feel the cold
i'll always be here so you can have something to hold
but just realize that love is in your eyes
we have nothing else to give inside

(0235) electricity pt. 2

we sit in a pool of silence, and nobody asks why. concentrated deathology 101. we quiver in the graves of consciousness, and nobody cares. plant the seed, and nothing grows. wipe the blood from my face and my nose. can't remember where i wanted to be; i just know it's gotta be somewhere far away from you and me. dissolve my tongue into this cryptic crossword puzzle of loss and a joke of wisdom... and the punch line is life.

sat in a delusion as i carved out my destiny one decimal at a time, and nobody noticed. developed a case of h1n1 without contact of any kind. twenty more pills to go until i reach my limit. he feels no pressure because it's all in his mind. and what you feel is no different than what is really real. i sent out my signals and waited for years without response. those who claim to know me only know themselves, but this, they don't even seem to know. i left you hanging on purpose. blackened eyes and a full glass of sorrow dumped out into the basement of the living. no second chances because time has fucked us all.

wish i could die, but i can't. wish i could cry, but i can't. wish a thousand wishes, and nothing ever comes true. only then, we know the devastating truth.

(0234) electricity pt. 1

i wake up and smile at the stranger looking back at me. looking back at me with ease as i break down these imaginary doors. it's all about patience and grace. a black comedy awaits my stomach. electricity forming at the roots. a repetitive stress injury convoluted with fear. nervousness convoluted with narcissism and a broken jaw. it's over and done with. and they say it with an empty breath. alone, and it's not ever changing. your lack of honesty was never too becoming to fit that style of intelligence. wrap it around my head. can't wrap it around my head. i look to the right and see a box of eroded memories. i have nothing to live for other than love and art. the love of art and the art of love. distance killed the consequences of being too connected. and distance killed the consequences of being caught up in the moment... for the sun laughs at the moon when he's not looking. if he only knew.

inebriated deadly and coughing on the floor. brushes his teeth and goes to bed.