ArtICLES
About something
It was past midnight, and the individual no longer existed. Every attempt at forming a thought failed.
The cold consensus exists to control creation. Individualism is nihilistic. Shutting out the echoey chambers breaks the cycle.
Where’s home when you don’t have a heart?
Could it be something totally foreign?
Is isolation a choice or a symptom? Or is it a protective measure?
How many of us feel drained of life after a simple interaction? Why is there a feeling of immense sadness after experiencing something that should be beautiful? Conversely, why do sad moments feel invigorating?
My biggest regret is trying to control situations that deserved to happen as they would have. Preventing happy moments before they happen. Telling someone to do something I did not want. Why must we self-sabotage?
The answer could be fear of rejection. But so what? We gamble in other areas of life without much care, even when there are far greater consequences.
But potential happiness or rejection is something far more personal. Self-defense mechanisms are so ingrained in some of us.
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It’s clear to me now that she isn’t human. Uncomfortably present in the room. With a look of whatever that was.
There’s no money in creating what I’d like to create.
They are the intruders who pit us against each other. Splitting, spitting. Complicating what is better untouched.Purity and sanity. The worst thing I’ve ever witnessed. Needing and shaking.
Stealing my creative time is a horrible crime.
They are deathly stupid and incompetent.
Gum the counter. Pull your eyeballs out.
Too dumb to know. Unable to pay attention. little hits of dopamine. Sparked. I would love nothing more than to be alone. Enough time to gather my ideas and put them in order. Enough time to get myself in order. No one to take commands from or to try to please.
Suck your own brain out through a straw.
Skin peeled off and cooked to a bubbling crisp. Interchangeable. Subservient to our replacements. Aiding them.Checking off the list. Dragging our bodies along.Handing in the identification. Dreaming of a better world that didn’t exist. Blaming them when it was us all along. There has always been sacrifice. Institutions and influencers.
I couldn’t care about what was happening at first, then it really got to me. It was made of iron. Rusted completely. bleeding. They used a fluid! Then it was known. We slave for nothing. There is no such thing as pride. Societal norms and expectations. People adapt. Splintered off.Wrapped in sand cloth. That city is filled with the worst of them. A fine way to get off with murder.
We were alone at the beach, my brother and I. A Canadian tourist walked by and made a slur. We got in his face. That’s when a brawl broke out. My brother took swings at him, and he fell face down in the sand. We held him down. My brother pinned his body while I took hold of his head. He suffocated on beach.
The horrid woman in a gown
She drives her nails into the head of the unsuspecting drool. Her arms are veiny. A sweet mist blown off rotten toes. Like a fireball from the clouds.
Cave humanoids.
Out of the darkness and through the clouds, the great ball of light came down. Boiling bones and collecting artifacts. Lasered for research studies. ****
I never met a girl out there, nor did I ever get what I desired most. Later in the day, we came home. Yes we did. And how about that. How about you and the dial?
A flourishing city one day will be examined under lenses. Nurturing my little baby. Predicting a snow avalanche. Awful trends and awful fiends. Poorly worn and extremely expensive. I hated her all this time. I genuinely did. I loathed her and I tried to get out of it. The poor souls involved never had an inkling. Like wringing the bear skins of its animism. Slapped multiple times. Punched in the ear! Lapping up everything spilled on the ground like slaves to that thing that punishes all. Death was what we had to comfort us. It was all we had.
At the beach the waves dragged us in. Sand beach’s saltwater numbs your skin and the sunlight roasts your face. Why are there so many missing people? Is suicide up, or is murder through the roof? *****
I angrily chew expired generic nicotine gum and drink as much unfiltered coffee as I can brew. I’m not so much in dire straits as I am in a frozen state. Brain freeze. No sex. For eleven years I’ve spent every day “fostering” what I consider to be a special product.
*****
Why is palm oil in everything I eat? White creme-filled blonde cookies.
*****
For far too long I’ve not felt as though I could face myself or those around me. I couldn’t experience anything for what it is. Who fed us this? Forcing us to live.
Filtered through other people’s lenses. A quote from Terrence McKenna stuck with me. “What do you see when you face the waterfall?”
******
Two outcasts drift from society. They find a camping spot and instead of declaring themselves unhoused, they identify as living off- grid. They live in a small town and find themselves banned from most stores. They are targeted by the police. They collect bottles and panhandle to make ends meet. One evening, they hear a rap on their tent. It’s someone they recognize as one of the owners of the stores they were banned from. He has been outed for marrying his alpaca in a secret ceremony whose pictures leaked on Facebook. He fled to the outskirts after being chased out. The two men offer him a chocolate milk and a place to hide . In the middle of the night, one of the men pegged him. He dies of shock. They ride his alpaca back to the town park and smoke. The store owner’s dead body is displayed.
