well that was a big load of bullshit.

this is where it needs to happen, this is where i need to build. think about ''things'' then find some focus. the trouble is what i really want to write about is the really tuff stuff. but then why not, people are too self absorbed to seek this shit out. it's as safe as my note books really. so what is it that i really want to explore? how close i came to losing another one? how close really? how do we know the signs of seriousness. he told me he'd taken pills, lead me to beieve that he'd taken enuf to drift him off. turns out he took 8. enuf to fuck him up, sure, but not enuf for eternal sleep. i kept telling him to find me...

i have to do something

i need to find my flow again, mebbe i can find it here?

and still i'm stepping on eggshells.

i have these things that i want, but i don't seem to be able to move forward as quickly as the rest of the world, well the successful rest of the world

and still i'm stepping on eggshells.

i know complaining about it wont help.

i have had some victories, but were they misguided? no, of course not.

and still i'm stepping on eggshells.

i cant shake hope, i still want to fight. there are words to be said and worlds to be formed.

i cant stop stepping on eggshells,

more is more.

so you're back on the bus & it's another month & even another year since you were here & the destinations have changed too. there's been a shift, not just in you but in the world and its as frightning as a fucking tsunami that you can see approaching when you've always kept so far from the sea in the past.

the church is still there & the sandle shufflers still bombard my mailbox at any opportunity but i've always followed my heart which open up a whole new set of worms & rules rules rules which you follow on instinct carrying only your safety word & cab fare home. the usual spatt breaks out at the stop opposite where a recent stabbing took place. most of them are here for the methadone but you're pretty sure the resident backlash of right minded people & personalities will take care of all the riff raff soon. not that you mind, adds a bit of colour & movement, distraction from the banal as you sit & you ponder the merits of change.

...

okay time to fantasize the muse. flow is such a feminine name for one so masculine, more like rocky.

so we're hanging together, my muse & me, when he reveals he's always dreamed of being an illiterate but some things are so hard to unlearn without an icepick & an oedipus fixation. so as i dream the possibilities the next thing i know we're well into our 3rd topic of conversation and i'm starting to get jittery because i'm not used to such high quality repartee. but anyway, the mood shifts like disappointing correspondence and the whole place darkens under the spectre of a doctor who mystery and i just know some weird shit's gunna happen soon.

don't look back look forward.

so much to say, so many thoughts but watch them dry like water in the desert, like ink in a pen as i sit here and carry on my avoidance behaviours. gotta get to social security, but hold on, what were those feelings? anyone?
at least the pen is moving, but bending? i just cant say.
ok so it's another day and have used that line before (&before, & before) but it's all just straw clutching at best. how to find the paroxysm gem? you find it in the corner, and in pain, you find it in the growing up and in the not growing up, when you're supposed to  - wot the fuck is that about?

it's about bad habits and habitually being bad and bad consequences and non sequential nonsense badly misspelled. i do hope that was at least gramatically correct because i really *liked* it. imagination can be slippery and ethereal no matter how many roman togas you want to dress him in. more like a snake in the garden of eden, there when times are tough and decisionmaking time has come - don't look back look forward.

i definitely think that i should take advantage , at least temporarily of a singular position on a larger bus. and then chris martin pipes up in his beautiful falsetto telling me everything's alright and i believe him because his voice matches my brain chemistry. even the bus gets a wide on for chris.

summin i ''found''

ok, it rolls on, the catastrophic, karmic, diabolic shit storm that is... being.

and here i am the next day which is in fact a better day in that is is a day of moving forward - a little. i am a non smoker i am a non smoker i am a non smoker. oh, go on, for old times sake...

bruised tatoos & blind psyches, lift me up like madonna, get me outta here before i blush and turn purple in the heart. in china pollution makes the rivers turn black and catch fire so i'm panic surfing in a heat  that tightens my skin in alarm and defence. the heavy weight of gravity rocks in my mind that cascade to the eternal nothingness, a sponge landing. the blank absorbent nite lets the spirals fly, but impotent like a spent firecracker i struggle to rise.

it may be my disfiguring scars that bring my charisma but i can be the deliverer of bad news and arrogant axioms - the paradigm needs to shift to me. dialling numbers on a disconnected line....

.......



........

the winter days pass, the summer days pass, most with little acknowledgement from me.

just doin it just doin it just doin it just doing it just doing it just doin it just doing it just...

i dont really know who i am or where i am going or what's up with the twich in my buttocks or why my glasses wont stay on my face, i dont even know the muffin man, well, not in any real sense anyway. i am familiar with his work tho.

punk, punk, diy & dont give a fuck. well i got the attitude down pat, & i guess you could say iv earned my membership, but with reward comes responsibility so please help me flow.
ha! was gunna cheat but...
just doing it just doin it just doin it just doin it just doin it just doing it just doing it just doing it just...

fuckenshame i cant force this shit. ok, one for my american friends...

hey, wait...

ok well, i want to feel desolate, i feel so safe here in my cave with the heater high (and so am i) but thats not doing it for me anymore. so let me look at this.. i try, i get beaten down, i go back to my cave, my cave does not have the same attraction to it cos i want to be happy. pathetically true.