lil paradigm shifts and christmas cards with glitter

i'm feeling a bit hazy on the details and i keep losing more and more time, but i have tried and failed to kill myself at least three times. secrets secrets are no fun, oh dip. i went to a therapist for a while and neglected to mention this detail, i didn't want to worry her with my troubles, she already thinks that i have a guilt complex and stuff. what evs, i'm in a better state of mind lately, i just don't feel as though it is my own. today i bought two new pairs of shoes and painted my bicycle to keep my mind off the fact that soon i will confront the person who made me want to stop living. i wonder if they sell greeting cards for such events, or if i will need to but a blank one and just kind of wing it...

muppets suck muppenises

Here I live
Always wanting to be alone
With all these funny strings
On my fingers
It’s not that hard really
To be so vain
Faking self assured
One step ahead at most
Then no one tries
To call you out
Asshole puppeteers aren’t smart
Stop feeding them
The minute they glance
Down miles of fishing lines
At the marionettes that smile
All the fucking time
They fantasize about all those van doors closing at once too soon
And hope they can’t reattach
Mend or even graft a single
Midas touch wand to their hand
That does absolutely nothing
Perfectly
Then people clap and the lights turn on
And they go home
They watch the news
And eat ham with their kids
Just like their parents did before
And their grandchildren will do just the same
Just a little better than the puppeteer
And that is more than enough
Even rag dolls on lanyard can dream
To pull the strings
Over and over until it seems
Unrehearsed, genius some say
But it is really not a talent
To stop giving a shit
(unless you practiced so hard)


I lost my way with words.

ignoring the content

i feel like im onto something better for myself with this style, so heres so more crap, why not:

Exploding release the only difference among us is where we get our piece/peace and the disagreements are virulent and the passion is real and to deny that theres truth is just spinning your wheels to pick no part in discussion just sit by the side, declare no ones right well then fine just keep quiet I want no part in your sophistic shit that you squat out roll in get a diploma for it id rather you told me you just wanna see tits theres no wheels spinning there no self conscious despair
only a lack which is honest and damned unaware

The struggle and shove every one needs what only a few have and they bumble above and below the issue with words that flip out and drop to their feet the special words the slightest move the stretch and the slide the mating ritual gone civilized like fencing with pins that stick in our dolls and supplies are running low and the barbarians are at the gates but now only the monks are safe! everyone else is everyones parent dumped in the pot and we melt into our children but the vat smells of blood lines swept and useless sweat the half of the human that never copied itself but more importantly never binded itself and was made whole but was only man or only woman just a kiss seeking aimless and sometimes hieros but never a gamos they were fated to want to their crooked marrow so nobly thought built to futility if by a deity then there lies the tragedy truest inthe stretch and the slide
our mating ritual so civilized

These are stream of concious, written and edited in about 5 minutes and I'm wondering if this is a better, worse, or just different format for me.

Furious flailing between line and white page exacerbates anger do not call it rage you would only exact the perilous extraction drawn to the scent of my putrefaction

The push and the pull when its all in the mind and you thought that you’d think well that’s where you went wrong thinking about thought is the last thing you should think, I thought you knew i thought you knew what it meant when you look in the depths and see only yourself well here I am spelling it out in words dripped from a pen from a finger cut finger short circuiting my keyboard to be on equal terms with my head

Despair is so dated well damn maybe if I were despair instead of just in it I’d get some of that action but how much creation can flow from negation when a soul is see through and the thoughts about thinking are doubtful where does a drive fit in, truth is the drives take their eponymous seat and the sins are whats in the simple stupid drives you deeper down that road in a hunter s thompson night where its always las vegas and youre never not high on some new medication released by your brain but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s whats called insane

personally in terms of work to reward i think these come out better than my more formal stuff, it at least cuts a bit a on my constant pretension but my tendency towards random rhyme remains no matter how fast i type.

An ember sits dying on the ground

I said it couldn’t have been my mine

The cigarette said otherwise

I didn’t press the point the pressure did that itself

And kept oh so quiet when its responsibility was clear

I walked into the kitchen and saw the mouse run his wheel

His circle wasn’t perfect but then his couldn’t kill

At least ours was intentional and such a good thrill

The same as the sinner who takes pills till he pales

My first kiss is always an overdose and nothing but thrill

Someone shoulda said we don’t all have the same scales

My balance remains broken like my hometown’s hills

Now I’m lying in a bed only I could have made

And it’s literal and figurative and oh so unkempt

But that’s the die he cast when He gave us our will

Every face in a crowd a walking, talking bet

Some say if anyone cleans up, its the Devil

Lord knows my will just wastes and wets

And we run on the wheel and we say that its fate

The truth is fates the metal

Ours is the gait

We choose the speed and trip

When we see a rung too far

Mine might come when I enter a bar

But don’t blame the drink, when I do

We all oughta know by now its not true

Guns don’t kill people, people do