Sweet honeyed sleep

So I have hit a bottom. It is surmountable but I need new old things. I need them desperately. I have none of my spark left. I am diminished.
Already I feel exhausted writing this. It is done. The year is over and not a moment too soon. Okay I would prefer it end now. That’s all.

I suppose a blowjob on the terrace would be nice.

Au revoir.

One Missed Call

Well I did my job,

I did it well.

I know I’m four hours late.

If you think about it

We aren’t built for those,

Those manners or woes

But to get through every day

Feeling better than before. 

Well I did my job

I did it well,

I know I’m four hours late. 

But can’t you see

Its stifling me

Killing every piece,

Piece of my sanity

And no it’s not me

It’s them.

Smell

I smell him every day, his scent is so tingly there, right there, near my heart. It has come to represent not him but that which I wish would take me up in its arms and kiss me forever.

Am I lonely?

No, that is not true. I simply crave for it every time I smell him. Wave after wave crashing upon me calling out to him, desperate in its desire but I know once he is mine I will be alright but so much more that I will shine not only for me but the rest of the cosmos.

So kiss me.

Or not. You never even saw me did you?

Why the Gods no longer Rule

A word called Lila

In the cosmos that we lay in, you and i, though now of course we may write about it as previously we were one and to talk about an observer with nothing to observe is absurd and thus tis now we write, thus, as i was saying when the thing that I am no longer lay in the cosmos it felt a terrible longing for recognition. That which i am no longer longed for play and sought it by splintering itself till it became you and i and now you and i together seek the sweet joyous reunion. Richer than before we are sated, our thirst dead but now we have a new dream to dream and i cannot tell if i am awake or asleep but maybe together when we become not what we are now but what that which was before us we shall understand. The world is changing; i can feel it in the water, in my bones and in the hope that burgeons in my heart. Lila. What fun it was.

"I have seen the world, for I was in his head." - Ganga

The power was intoxicating. I stared at that.. that thing, insolent enough to stare at me. Its eyes screwed up in anger- leaking fury. I wondered a moment whether it was aware of its imminent destruction. As the thought gestated another memory assailed me. I grappled with it, fighting to maintain control, trying hard, so hard to not let it materialize. It was her. She said once more in the ghostly form that all people in memories have. With disjointed movements, voices unnaturally loud and emotion- wave after wave.

She opened her mouth and said to me, “Remember kindness, wisdom is yours to take.”

I cowered knowing I would die and he would reign.

The air grew hot and sparkled as he transformed. Now here and then gone. In his stead stood a slight boy with tears of compassion with deep black-brown eyes with the pain of another being, a being that lived within him.

His gaze turned to me and said, “It you are free as you ought to be, forgive the one who trespassed upon it.”

He flew off leaving me to wonder what I had just seen.

The Theory of Many Selves II

He basked in the gaze of his eyes. Completeness was his gift. The very best. It is that power which makes the song too slow or too fast. I grow confused. He reads my mind and stretches for the perspiring glass. It is cold and tastes as only water can beautiful and so vaguely alive. I look at him in wonder. How is it so that perfection is the only thing we want but once?

We make love once more and this time it is pretty, sticky, warm and cool at the right bits. It’s like tea sweet and then comes the flood of tannin. Perhaps all that we need is a bit of sweetness and a lot of kindness. This is hard for it’s so much easier to scream and yell and use sarcasm and long - unkind words and stupid mean looks of which we seem to be so proud of. Can it be the human race think this is living? If so it is indeed foolish, for we as a species are renowned for only one thing, that quality called humanity.

My, no his breath comes in short gasps. My hand clasps his. We are beautiful. Naked by the starlight of the star called the sun. Mock me once more and I will teach your children kindness. And thereafter you will forever be taunted by your haunting memories of this one moment, a moment that will come to define your life. Would you want this, I wonder? Perhaps that is why we gift, a symbol of all our love and all our apologies for not telling you or is it I that we love you.

So here I go.

You love I.