impulses and intrusion

impulses and intrusion 

decadence and betrayal

this is the year i quiet the noise

or succumb to the storm, folding in on myself.

scrambling, trembling, tripping, screeching

clawing, ripping, gripping, slipping

flip flopping and filtering every ounce of yourself 

through the sieve of acceptable. 

public humiliation 

you stand out when you stand up

i'm tired and my bones weary 

i'm young and spritely so there’s no excuse really 

but no cowboy on their 100th rodeo could lasso my brain 

no commercial fishing net capable of wiping out the population of fish in the sea could catch me enough dopamine to satisfy my cravings 

and if i gave up where would i go?

i would have to leave my body so as not to face the reality.

i cannot leave i’ve tried before, therefore i cannot give up.

for i must stay bound to these sinews; i'm sewn into the fibers, melted into the flesh. i am quite claustrophobic but i decorate well. 

my taste is not for everyone but i prefer it that way. the day i agree with the masses is the day i check myself in. hell, just push me off the cliff already. 

how does one determine they’re lonesome? surely a bounty of others exist just outside your enclosure? the void may not be human shaped. perhaps it is something else entirely. a vacuum. 

if i only i knew how those worked. 

empty night.

a letter to the great Gender-fier

dear ye Gender-fier, conquerer of human spirits and soul expression,

you have brought misery and laid waste to an entire population of incarnated souls upon planet earth. the disappearing of ancient beings and inner freedom has brung you power, at the cost of the very essence of life. i imagine the guilt of causing man not to know thyself is heavy on the chest. perhaps you walk with a hunch, or a frown. deep grooves below where smiles might have creased their passage. i almost feel sorry for you, and then again I absolutely do not, for it was you who forced my infinite self into a tight milk crate designed for bottles of milk.

do i smell like milk to you?

whitewashed society reeks of rot. decay where joy once lived, mold where the explorative nature was stifled. may i ask, was this the desired outcome oh great genderfier?

oh brilliant Binar-ess, have you achieved Nirvana? because ive been left with more questions than answers, and a host of inner voices that once whispered and now scream.

anger where peace may have stayed.

confusion hovering above a quiet knowing. still, like stone. felt, like low frequency resonance beneath the screeching singer. patient like a monk, and calm. one thing cannot be suppressed so forcefully it is forced to disappear, and that is the truth. knocking, swelling, heat rising, cold chilling scissor-like up my spine, wet head, snot drip. the truth batters down the iron door of establishment, trawling the inner flesh in its wake. acknowledge me or perish like your brethren before you. it is not a threat, but an indifferent, apathetic fact. for everything is, and no meaning is assigned to that.

i am nothing if not opposite to my perished brethren before me who were absolutely washed of brain matter. i choose to acknowledge.

i choose to sit through the battle between brain and heart, soul and programming, shadow and light. are not i an innocent victim to the whims of the universes attempt at experiencing itself? i must have asked for this once but i cannot imagine ever doing so with the knowledge of what it’s like. still, i know that experience is my choice, and so i grit the teeth of my thoughts and seal the mouth shut. you will not overwhelm me today with a cloud so thick i cannot stay warm.

everyday i battle, and choose death. death over life without truth.

ye gendermilkcratercreator,

had not you convinced me i was a lie, i wouldn’t have to fight like this. so fck you.

sincerely best,

Voyager

do i have enough time to live

time is it’s own dimension, which we can only perceive linearly. however, it is infinite, and all of time happens at the same time, all the time. time is not promised, persuaded, or particularly pessimistic. it is the unbothered ruler of your day, night, evening, trip around the sun, multiple trips around the sun, any and all specific and general stretches of existence.

a humans perception is but one image captured through a specific lens which can only capture what it was designed to. not every color is recognized by this lens, nor every current moment, and not all dimensions of every object can be captured. in a 3d world this camera preserves 2d renditions.

the cameras images are not lies, and they are not wrong. they are merely limited and subjective. as is the human being in their perception of the universe, each other, and themselves.

limited, and subjective. every so often does a curious scoundrel attempt to break the bounds of that divinely dissatisfying design and take in a new perspective. Ye persecuted artists, carry on!

if only humans could see past their clouded eyes, and angry hearts: they are infinite wells of creativity and love. so much so that they cannot impress themselves, they will never be enough for themselves, and are rarely enough for each other.

of course we fight and rage.

we are blind folded sparks of pure energy and light. is it too bright for us or are we too scared to remove the cloth? the frustration is enough to make one implode, or snuff out the flame so as not to endure the heat as it rises and builds in pressure. every molecule speeds up into chaos until the reckless abandon of temper turns to a violent, ceaseless storm.

that storm ahead is always there.

if i could close my eyes and see colors bending into light and refracting off of waters and gases, i would never open them. i long to envision a flora and fauna of another land, time, and galaxy.

and yet, i haven’t seen my whole earth. and even if i had it wouldn’t be enough to continue seeing new ones. it will never be enough until i let go of longing.

i long not to long.

i yearn not to yearn,

and i crave not to crave.

but that burn pushes me forward! without the thirst i would not seek water. i would not come upon a waterfall or a river, and then i might never know that a creature could swim.

so i’ll take my hunger with me, and let it reside in my sidecar. for i am the driver, but you, dear passenger, are the reason i have somewhere to go.

in order to be free i must first free myself. ah me, everywhere i go there i am.

thoughtful night.