Tuesday, February 26
my soul speaks legends and pages of noise boil through me, from the depths and cracks and secret places that words like to hide in (they eat that shit up); the shock and trauma remake my body into some kind of stronghold, but the courier brings more bad news, to, as of yet, no change in the strength or nobility of the fortress
it's the new strange abilities that smack of reality and old age and destiny that are the most troublesome, the things neglected, the things that matter, mi vida, mi amor, mi destino
the isolation of the isolate, the dread of the kingdom, the solace of the dove; the surface of the unconscious and the sideways transfer of ideas and memories to the places we sat before we were born from the places we built to hold our sensitivities in place
there is no day like today and no chance left to bury it away
it's the new strange abilities that smack of reality and old age and destiny that are the most troublesome, the things neglected, the things that matter, mi vida, mi amor, mi destino
the isolation of the isolate, the dread of the kingdom, the solace of the dove; the surface of the unconscious and the sideways transfer of ideas and memories to the places we sat before we were born from the places we built to hold our sensitivities in place
there is no day like today and no chance left to bury it away
