how does an angel walk down the street without bumping into others with their wings? -j&
and if for a moment i let her speak spread her wings be… what would she say? what well from what cup would she drink? what scent’d pervade her hair hell’s sulfer… or loves pungent sweet stink? what new delights ‘d i taste what vistas her wings take us o’er if i let her the broken self speak? -j&
pursuin’ ones passion no matter the mastery is livin’ life fully -j&
going for a ride… and maybe for a moment forget who i am where i came from what i lost and what i came for -j&
this is just a dream
this is not real this is just a dream and in this dream there is war where i desire peace to be -j&
an atomē in cosmos
it’s ironic that here i’m alone. ‘tis bitter to swallow my fault. yet, how does one overcome such things? … isolation among millions. -j&
Weary… Weary of the thin coat of veneer That doesn’t quite cover the sneer Hiding behind a “friends” smile Spilling over the edges Like fat From an obese woman’s jeans You can’t help but acknowledge With sadness and repulsion The paucity of spirit Before you avert your eyes There is no rest From the merciless drone Of brutality The suffocating, oppressive...
when you're having a bad day, when you've... →
i wonder what would happen if i just… stopped… trying. but it’s like leaving it stay, the spoon that’s jumped the fence to join the forks in the silverware tray. it’s not happening… anytime soon. -j&
Learning to be
Learning to be and liking me without goal, purpose or condition frees me from limitation restoring natural expression of love, power and creation. -j&
someone really smiling at you seeing beauty, magic, power, wonder love for you flows naturally smiling, i surrender to mystery creation, the unknown -j&
i wonder at the times i enjoy, endure, repeat this pattern, this scene so familiar my cells reflexively replicate the warp my beliefs, the weave -j&
excruciating is love when received by an impoverished heart -j&
An Objective View
A foreign lense reframes events past and present in cold black and white stills How can I live so long and not have the slightest clue who I am? For I see what I fear and hate most, clearly, within myself from an objective point of view -j&
rock paper scissors... (complete)
junk (shred) frantic is accurate no one will remember no one will see no one will understand who i was, what made me. (proof) receipts, cancelled checks, rental agreements statements: bill, bank, credit showing who i was BY what i bought how close to the edge i lived for what i valued and (implicitly) what i did not. (story) can you see my character in...
the only way to win the game… is to hold hands.– j&
peace on this tumultuous arduous journey gained like a jewel faraway mined deep deep inside
review the pictures record all the names of people i’ve known and met remember the details of all the (f*cking) jobs i’ve held increasing net gains by giving more than i’d ever get reference my identity saved in .pdf’s regurgitate resumes for work, housing, dating, socializing and credit
wondering as i transition from wood to 0’s and 1’s do i retain the archaic frame?
what makes a life well lived? me thinks to love fully, to receive graciously, to give, to contribute to your family, to participate in a small local national world community
however you want to frame it global conspiracy, collusion economics, greed degeneracy, (overthrowing fledgling democracies) big serves the few small benefits us all.
i’ve been told in more ways than one that bigger is better big houses, big money big power, big energy big security, big bombs big spirituality, big farms big food, big medicine big boobs, big prisons big esteem, big green and no matter what color, sex or age one needs wood, BIG wood to be happy.