dry hands

Hi, good morning. right now I'm standing at the face of something very conscious of its own importance and lazy in its realization. eleven, twelve hours until the clock cracks open another day. Make it count.

Introspection is an unnecessary deed. I want to apologize for everything I've said and done but it wouldn't be received. confess: my whole life I've been reaching towards a blank slate: though that's just a hunch. I remember I saw myself in the mirror late last May and I was scared, proud of my fear, my permanent lack of control. I told him this and I meant it, what's the point of living without a striving for improvement? whetting the blade

thoughts and words have not awarded me with their satisfactory emergence. I'm trying not to ask so much. what a useless sentence anyway. understand. doubt love. demanding. ...stomach what would happen if we met and I couldn't make you laugh. it can't just be loneliness. leave you the opposite of burden

What feeling supersedes admiration and lust? Desire and love are separate constructs after all. objective and subjective value. that's barely a choice. a tool, functional and of use. I want it all that way. lovers spit the creases of your palms

touch and go. wanted to be a pilot bursting through the fabric of the globe. tearing apart

the earth

is it a false understanding of equivalency and meaning? third strike and another quarter in the mason jar: overcompensation of rhetorical questions

if every input in the world ran through me. if I did not have to choose. to be the machinery itself. I think that would feel good. swirling pain and love inside but not of me. necessary for

and the lights always on x2

and like lcd soundsystem said, there's always a side door, into the dark

Lots to do before this weekend: by monday I'll be dead or without fetters. wish me luck and...

a stronger spirit?