Temptation

going down hard in the pivotal hour with vigor spunk
hard in the paint
grinding the organ into a fine powder

a thrust, a crisp gust in the air
now cropdusting the room

inhale deep into your lungs
so deep, solo, it’s at the bottom
coated at the core

nose burning, eyes watering, relief overload
you’ll want it again & again

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Run With Me

It’s only 10 miles.
A circumference drawn by some random douche high above in the heavens on a metaphorical map on the surface on Mother Earth, and you’re smackdab in the middle of it. No compass, no GPS, no clear destination.

Kind of leaves one with the sensation of a deep sorrow nipping at their nose. The perpetual feeling one gets when receiving a simple reply of “k” after typing out a 3 paragraph message.

Just a lone pepperoni slice placed in the center of an ordered cheese pizza by a vindictive underpaid Domino’s employee. A shipwreck survivor stranded in the middle of the Atlantic for what feels like an eternity & finally reaching dry land, only to find out it’s an offshore offtherecords island hosting a U.S. military facility that conducts experiments that would make conspiracy theorists froth from the mouth.
You shouldn’t be here but you sure as hell can’t leave now.

But it’s really only a 10 mile radius.

Kind of leaves one with the sensation of a deep sorrow nipping at their nose. The perpetual feeling one gets when receiving a simple reply of “k” after typing out a 3 paragraph message; every day, written in an itinerary outlined by some random douche from high above. A feeling that never dissipates even as the body runs through the predetermined gauntlet, task after task, every sight seen before seen once more for good measure. The occasional unfamiliar twist leading to an unfamiliar road, sure, but nothing that leads towards an unexpected outcome.

All because of 10 miles. It’s only 10 miles, give or take.
A seemingly inescapable 10 miles.

Kind of leaves one with the sensation of a deep sorrow nipping at their nose. The perpetual feeling one gets when experiencing déjà vu without being invested enough to properly notice.

Any Questions?

People speak languages they do not fully comprehend, uttering incantations loaded with power they consistently underestimate due to their own ignorance.

The Weeping Willow Tree is on fire and all attention is zeroed in on a lone branch that fell off of it.

The latest software update is already obsolete by at least 5 decades of technological advancement.

The cancer has destroyed most of the body and tears are shed for a fresh papercut.

A boulder tumbles down from the peak, smashing trees and forest creatures into the dirt, and the mountain does not notice.

The ones on top of the marble pillar urinate on our heads as we refurbish the base.

The call has dropped minutes ago yet I’m still chattering away, hoping to be heard through the hole in thin air.

The End Is The Beginning

It’s a strange phenomenon when your parents stop being your parents and are just other people.  People, that in the past, had every reason to do with why you are here now, wiped your bottom, fed you milk that you can’t remember the taste of (and don’t want to), and dictated nearly every aspect of your life. Then… you get older and reach an age that your parents may look back at in relation with themselves and hash out fond memories that they had at your age. Offer advice that seems to have no relevance to modern times, what you should do and should be doing.

What they’ve always done, if your paternal parents had an active part in your life. But it’s different now. Instead of a parent/child relationship dynamic, now it’s two/three seperate adults with their own ideology and worldview, who thinks the other is misguided.

In this moment-if you’re like me-you’ll start thinking about how your parents have lived an entire life before you’ve ever existed, perhaps, as long as you’ve been alive up to this point. And then start to think about how short your life actually has been, even though your life is the longest running condition you’ll ever know and physically possess. Perhaps start contemplating the scope of The Universe and your place in it. And realize that not only are you a mere dust speck in the Sahara but you haven’t even been around long enough to know how enormous the Sahara is.

And it is at this realization that we, you and I, part ways in this path of thought as you will have time to consider these ramifications and I will be already gone off into some other dimension that has yet to be defined in scientific terms. I don’t say this with any pretense, mind you. It’s just that I’m writing this post now and when the post comes to an end, so will this train of thought.

Oh, how I can feel it derailing already as my original point has already been somewhat forgotten.

“You know that it’s entirely possible to not finish this post and come back to finish it once it’s fully realized.” 

Shut up, Me. What could you possibly know? You from three minutes ago couldn’t possibly comprehend what I know here in the present. You’re just another dust grain floating in the wind to nowhere special. And I’m somewhere different. Not presently yet but in the near future, once this post ends.

Yes, this train of thought isn’t going anywhere I recognize and it makes me uncomfortable. So I’ll get off and go somewhere else. Just as soon as this post e-

Banshee Screams In Ohio

It’s been eight long days since I’ve thrown away the key to my proverbial dungeon. No shakes, no tremors, no sweats. No anything really… except maybe regret. I imagined the first steps towards “decent living” would be paved with a little more pizazz. Or at the very least, an indication that this path is headed in the right direction.

Where is the meaning? Is there a Light at the end of the tunnel or is it just the cheap lamp on my desk?

The biggest adrenaline rush I’ve felt lately was winning 5 bucks from a brightly colored scratch off lottery ticket…. that cost 5 bucks. That’s what you get for seeking instant gratification, Mr. E. Steven.

I have no taste for mundanity and middle of the road thrills more bland than a styrofoam & cardboard sandwich on wheat bread.

Failure comes easy at a time like this and the idea of failing totally & miserably seems quite reasonable. Though, I seek more than an altered state of mindset. Burning rubber on the same stretches of roads that lead back to the comfy confines of suburbia leave me feeling rather hollow. As vast as this world is, I’ve rarely ventured outside of the 10mile radius I was born into.

I don’t think I’m any better or worse than the folks around me who seemed to have settled into a place they can accept. But I’m not comfortable and haven’t been for as long as I can remember. Common sense tells me to just get the hell out of dodge. If an irksome song comes on the radio that makes you wish for the peace that only deafness could provide, you don’t sit through the tune and complain about it. You simply change the station.

But my life isn’t a radio station. And I can’t really scan through different possibilities until I find one that fits.

I could, perhaps, learn to live with the idea that I’ll never find peace & happiness. But if I could just get my hands on either of them every once in a while, I’d be able to do the best I could between high flights & nights in the ruts.