Solitude is the lost sword of humanity
Use it to sever from conformity
Cut well, be free for eternity
Find a way out! If they throw stones at you until you flee the city, it will be a small price to pay for your sanity. Embrace solitude!
She asked me how I was, this time I decided to be honest
Kinda’ struggling mentally….. not in an emotional sense, but literally, mentally, I can feel my brain breathing if that makes sense, like it’s struggling on its own and needs a hole drilled in my skull for it to diffuse the pressure, like a veil that’s on too tight, there’s words everywhere…. I need to tame them, they’re wild and roaming, no they’re trying to stay afloat in a turbulent sea, yeah that’s it, that’s why there’s pressure, the sea, it’s chaotic, these words have no chance, the waves are not crashing, they’re bashing them around, rips in the ocean suck them down and then spit them back up, tease them with deprivation of oxygen and surface them to breathe for a second before turbulence takes the lead in this Lambada dance, tis such a dirty dance, teasing, arousing and not effectuating anything like a hot air balloon with no hot air…placid dance, and I have a boat, it’s only small, fisherman’s boat and it is good for catching fish for nourishment, only need my sustenance but I’m trying to save all these words with my little boat, to bring them with me to the shore, the shore that I can’t even see, these fucking words are just drowning, they can’t swim, they’re pathetic, they won’t even try to come aboard, I have to put so much effort into saving them, so I’m stuck between containing the sea and its turbulence inside this vessel called a head or drilling a hole and allowing the sea to settle, settle to mediocrity and calm, boring calm, calm that allows all life form to survive the sea but for shit to just go about its merry way…..i think I will keep my head sealed, I enjoy the fierceness and the violence, the turbulence and struggle the saving if but of only some words, enough for this fisherman to compose a hearty meal, that’s how I am right now and four hours ago and eight hours ago and seventy two hours ago and hours and hours ago, but I thank you sincerely for asking, it had to come out and it came out because you have the balls to ask.
You could summarise that blink of consciousness in a few words;
I’m obsessed with words right now.
This person asked sincerely. Answer is a blink of consciousness, hence the style and disregard for punctuation and grammar. One continuous minute thought in the plenitude of others that haunts an introverts mind.
A snapshot if you will.
Style of post inspired by a recent post of Nina Karadzic, so credit given where credit is due. She has a wonderful blog and style. Check it out at http://www.inoirvelvet.com
She asked me how I was.
Bad question to ask an introvert.
Long or short answer? …. Cacophony of words or mannered and pruned response…..
One has no punctuation,
It has no meter,
It has no introduction,
It has no theme,
Unless your gifted with Aristotelian wisdom,
the Selflessness of Rumi,
and the prose of Khayam,
you’re not gonna’ understand a thing I am saying,
not that you’d want to anyway,
I probably sound like a freak unleashed.
Its semblance is of the schizophrenic….
after snorting a line of Columbia’s finest,
fury unleashed without reservations……
Fuck that measure of acceptability.
No holds barred,
zero fucks given,
balls to the wall,
pedal to the metal,
She’ll get my answer alright, my day has been full of questions, answers, thoughts, ponderings, meditations and struggles….voices
But then I thought,
Did she really mean it?
Did she really sincerely mean it when she asked how I was?
I guess I’m a liar because I replied “I’m well thanks”.
I wasn’t thankful,
I hated that she asked
and I wasn’t well.
She smiled and said “That’s good”,
and I continued the answer in my head.
Even when I’m with people….
I’m not there,
but the snares,
the nostril flares,
the minds impair,
as they struggle to comprehend my lack of flair,
daily trivialities that I’m unaware,
so I stay out of their,
I ignore their very being,
and from being a small teddy in a corner,
I end up the big fucking bear,
sitting in the middle of the room on scrutiny’s chair.
That chair is gonna’ break,
it’s there for the take,
so for your sake,
leave me alone,
a calm lake,
before I partake,
In chaotic savagery,
rusty autumn rakes,
cant gather my thoughts, mistakes,
like a mack truck,
of missile freight ,
Stop now before it’s too late,
And you meet your fate.
One day when I was a boy, loneliness visited me.
It showed me the way of the world.
It promised it would not betray me like they.
As such, it has proven a noble companion.
It never strays far from my side.
Ready to take the blows of whatever anyone may throw my way.
Got words? The emptiness of my soul will allow them to pass through.
Got guns? Shoot your bullets as my invisibility fails your aim.
Got fists? The body has become numb to sensation.
Got abandonment? Thank you for adding fuel to my fire.
Got love and companionship? That’s where loneliness leaves me in a dark alley way,
Paralysed and ineffective, the cryptonite of it’s power.