(TW: Language)

Well shit, I keep picturing lines discussing my intoxication and why I can’t remember the words I managed to string together discussing the tone of my latest endeavors



And thank God for spell check! Ha fucking ha my neurons get angry when my logic is gone, I swear sometimes they try to fuck me over like they just want to rest for a goddamn moment



I read Beat poetry for the first time today, Howl caused my head to sway uncontrollably and earlier I reminded myself in syllables that pulsed I sway when I walk when the bottle’s almost gone



And this piece of language (doubt) that’s been trekking around, twisting about, that knocked something awry from previous scenes, that advises repeatedly I don’t know what I see



This piece, just one of too many, another to make my decisions drag heavy, I’ve seen to do nothing but instigate query and cause my acceptance to grow more and more weary



There’s phrases, ideas, I want to stream onto paper but all my brothers I’ve watched cause me to linger; regardless of how I reflect through their irises, there’s no way in hell I can possibly call it



Do I confuse you with my ambiguous pronouns? I just want to convey there’s no way I can know how my tongue and expressions elope in strange minds, though certainly they do not receive it as I



And I swear! I could care less if I sit and watch Skyrim then if we wandered about high and drunken, I know the differences between those laughs and I’m not too fucked up to catch the looks you pass



But there’s no anger, no discontent in my voice! I only want you to know I too am overwhelmed by the noise, the 26 characters that scatter over your cheeks, provoking ideas that our discourse is weak



They plague me as well! Though somehow I’ve been able to stifle their strangle I say I walk with a smile and I believe for a while I’ve been on the outside of things



By stifle I mean I find I concede that regardless how frenzied my thoughts, these ideas will bend the decisions I make in regards to the social arts



I seem to often forget that not all offer smiles and that words tax many more than I, for sometimes peace comes with silence for me, while my companions’ comfort is shy



I’ll call this a beginning because something’s been lifted though I’m sure I may never be ‘finished’, regardless I’ve got something new out of the jumble though don’t ask me what the fuck I’d call it


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