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I have used this place to expose my deepest thoughts.

You my peers have my whole person before you. I am dressed only in a threadbare wardrobe.
This trigger I will not take literally. It should not be an object. Movement should not be an act.

Yet. Expresses exception. There is this fact and that fact and yet...
As they aimlessly thread their way through the aisles of a Rite Aid Beth explained herself to John:

There's something so beautiful about tragedy and depravity.  
Where are you going so fast?

I will miss you when you can't come back the same.

One day you will irretrievably go.
There he sits now. The sublime honey bear! Staring me down with those eyes like still black pools.

Only his little rear haunches are still contain that reddish amber ichor.
The thrill of the music still lingered in the place. A few shafts of light still touched down variously onto the darkness of the theatre. I sat there running my thumb and index down the seam of my coat repeatedly.

The heavy empty. The heavy empty. I repeated(more)
John wants to study philosophy but thinks he'll cut himself short and study something practical like...Bethany wants to study anthropology and work in the underbelly of the world.

They meet being trapped together waiting for their numbers to be called at the DMV. All the seats are take(more)
"well don't cherry pick it boy, give er' some gas" ---hooooop--- Whip back into seat; crimson red and silver buttons.  "yes son the great beyond" ---hush--- Clear wide open eyes; perfect purple black---prismatic stars--- sudden suchness [pure presence]. "shoot son, you're pure star struck aintcha'?" "hee hee you'(more)
But by then they had all but forgotten, so they moved out again into the fields where they set back to work in the soil that turns year by year into life.  

The wind through the whispering chattering trees and the unsurprising sky were there with them. (more)
Simple language now.
Happy, Sad, and... Good and Bad.

Simple expression because we trace with stencils and then we come back to fill in the details.
Over the table, negative space, wallet shaped.
Vexes that tender rage.
Intensity fades. They say, into the everyday.
Until then. I'm left to feel it.
In the mind, a brainstorm rolls in.
Bolts tearing down from the ponderous bulk of its folds.
In the space thus lit, sulking b(more)
I stopped writing, stopped thinking about writing.
I was embarrassed by the fact that I wrote and the fact that I liked to think about things the way that I do.
Somehow it seemed safer to join the dumb horde and chew the cud.
The temptations of normalcy (more)
Irretrievably lost.
Caught infinitely falling into the event horizon.
The affirmation of the right to die over the will of others. The music is blaring out and the sense of loss is looped continuously by the stillness of a photograph.
Misery so horrible its comedy.
The music o(more)
This week I've catalogued my sparse cupboards and counted the days. The days between now and enough to eat contain hunger, that's certain.

My living space is an ascetic exercise, bare and empty.

Bertrand Russell's "History of Western Philosophy" occupies my time while I avoid the scho(more)
The slope of the day rides overlong. Easing up imperceptibly to a peak which the traveller has forgetten they intended towards originally.

The traveller looks out from the precipice barely higher than the trough. They are dangerously close to the sky. It stains their skin.