questions

summer, blue.

Another empty hallway echoes the freedom of youth

another window speaks in tongues of lark and gibberish

speaking only in languages I have barely ever known

It’s a windy path ahead, and all I got is a rope and a way

but the winds, they blow colder as time trickles down

An uphill task, an unglorified tale

spare me the detail

when all you strive for is left weak, frail.

all you’re looking for, a quieter sail

alas, only sea and the breeze to whisper sweet nothings.

summer, blue.

and you wish the music were lighter

the rain, quieter

the storm rages on outside the window now

but the shadows lurk beneath the bed

what might you say, to strike down the wondrous mellow bed of death

that calms you to the lull of sleep day after day

offering you a slight embrace and an understanding of all that’s dealt

of you and your fate, a shifting pack of cards

you play some, you lose some

would you play again? take a bet with the gods of chance?

or maybe worse, you dodge and dance and prance

avoiding the unescapable decay

you will find your way, oh you will some day

summer, blue

why would it be this way?

you ask, the universe in play

nay, there are no answers mate

behind a silver spoon and a rusted plate

one must walk.

further, to keep walking is the hardest part

a stop here, and maybe oh there! a start!

not quite

not as black and white

or so it may appear

for lose sight too soon, and the oasis disappears

there is truth in your fears

know that fate only throws winds

but it is you, my friend who has to steer

there is truth in art

summer, blue.

de l'Absolut

Another cold place, another shattered dream.

Perhaps, the order of life is tied into the random and the unexpected.

There are times when all the shivers that run down your spine aren’t worth it.

You feel cold with a glass and a packet and a bottle and a gun.

They’re not all here.

Some day. some other time.

Save seven, unhinged nine.

all in me, except a bottle of wine.

I don’t need your shit.

I seriously don’t.

Brutal, twisted world.

So dark, yet so beautiful.

Fever dream.

Packet of lies sold.

Buy truckloads.

Intoxicate yourself before its late.

Find your beautiful funeral.

Catch the bait.

All part of the wicked plan.

Catch your part.

Before it dissolves you.

All that you know and desire.

up in wisps of smoke.

Kill your dream or destroy yourself. make your choice.

Find meaning in all this absurdity.

Is it all numbers and integers?

we’re all creators. before we fall.

into the abyss of all that uncertainty.

all those dark corners that my shadow follows me.

whispering of dark futures and disturbing pasts.

all my life trying to find meaning in the absurd.

this existence, it pales.

before all i feel and experience.

Perhaps it’s all an illusion.

an illusion of absolutes.

Liars.

The Ship That Sailed Far Too North

My life has always been a kind of oxymoron.

A walking contradiction.

Mirror inversion.

 

I have seen rejection.

I have felt the sound of collapsing waves.

 

take control of wandering minds.

before I took it apart.

 

The crash is inevitable.

when you swim in murky waters.

 

you knew it all along, didn’t you?

It was.

 

It wasn’t meant to be.

you were stranded.

 

but you watched it fade.

day after day.

 

you ask why.

that ship’s already sailed.

 

they said.

with a fret and a shrug.

 

times change and so do I.

 

What’s to kill is to buy.

 

you prick and you pry

 

but we did try.

 

you and I.

 

We never.

 

Fly.

 

past differences.

 

motive and ego.

 

A disturbing childish game.

 

who is it to blame?

 

is it me, is it you?

 

is it the sky, so violently blue?

 

what sets us apart?

the paths we pursue.

 

the method and the madness.

intertwining.

Question and Clue.

 

I ask the whistling breeze.

it replies in whispers and codes.

 

The only path, after all.

is the road that stretches ahead.

 

No more sea, no more to see.

what is to be, will be.

 

My world explodes, and all that was is far past damaged.

I walk.

When The Gloom Kicks In.

My life is a scissor pale zigzag.

It goes from bad to worse to fucking amazing.

It's a spiral road into infinity and back.

It is the worst possible trajectory you can imagine.

A hell-hole that promises cheap thrills.

only instead of making you feel any better, it only consolidates the promise that things are only going to get more difficult and fucked up.

You want to sit and chill the fuck out. but nobody gives you the freedom to do that. you're in this cage of a system. pumping shit through, in and out of you. It's one big fucking vacuumed vortex of pressurized shit that only gets heavier and heavier as time passes by.

things get distorted. visions get blurred. paths are not clear anymore. you can't remember where you were five minutes ago. you're fucking confused and you don't know where the fuck you are anymore. you're spinning through space and time at several miles an hour and you cant feel anything, and yet you feel so much at the same time, its nauseating.

Before you know, you're being packed into a little tube one millimeter square big and pumped through the universe at the speed of light. it's disorienting.

you don't know where you're going.

You're Lost. You're Lost.

When The Gloom Kicks In.