...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...

... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ...
A Journal of Sorts

"stimulated faces, people and places
silent community lives off what is
greylight, spotlight, lowlife, greylight

a hole in my head, no hold on my body
and the ground so hot, the sky so cold
I don't know, I don't know where I'm going, I don't know
I see people crying, hiding faces
it's so heavy, it's so heavy
running lost, looking for a way out
and I turn around
turn around, see a child falling
falling to the ground with a knife in its head
there's a smell in the air
take me away

   I want to breathe..."


~ Virgin Prunes ~














did you ever notice how people walk up stairs?... living in a typical apartment complex in this area (they're all built about the same around here), in the bedroom by the stairs, you get to notice that each person walking up the stairs has a distinctive cadence to his or her step... and most trudge as if they are too tired to lift their feet, no less put them down gently... must be tough on the feet to be pounded like that... and then I wonder, is it more insensitivity or more laziness or more being out of shape physically...

there must be others who, like me, are almost always aware of the environment and people and beings around, who allow sensory input to connect with conscious thought and react to the conscious awareness... and maybe it's also a selfish desire to not abuse this body, but I am usually conscious of each step I take, of where and how my feet land, of what noise I make as I move through this world... it could be timidity or shyness or fear of some sort and it could be consideration for the environment, but I find overall consciously and subconsciously, from moment to moment, strive to take actions that disturb or alter the environment around me as little as possible... stealth seems most comfortable for me unless I conscious wish to change something and leave some sort of mark or impact along my way...

and when I open myself to experience the environment with all of the senses, to the best of my ability today (which is miniscule compared to where I have been and hopefully will be again one day when I stop the stagnant spiral of mourning and return to the upward climb of maintaining optimal physical conditionaing)... there is so much darkness in the minds (and more in my own than ever before)... perhaps the lack of physical conditioning that diminishes my sensory experience and awareness is the primary cause for others as well... but I sense, most of the time, less reason, less conscious choice, less purpose in the vegetation of others... and I wish you who understand what I mean here (and in other contemplative reflections) would wave hello and let me know you are out there... and I wish one was here to share, inspire, and remember... and be ready, willing, and able to begin again...

I just want to breath fresh air again... as much as it would be possible in this world condemned by an insensitive and greedy humanity and the industrial pollution and waste products of the species-wide suicide that humans ironically call progress... I want to share the purity of a virgin heart in an innocent soul... I still have it to offer, however tarnished by weather or scorched by human fires... tears continue to cleanse and preserve... I await...

I was a child stabbed in the back
by the promise of love
I know the pain of the betrayals
when an adoption fails

I was a parent condemned by a partner
mother of my progeny
give me strength to bear witness
to the horrors of humanity

I was a fool who dared believed
in the promise of love
I know the death of the selfishess
that consumes happiness

I was a martyr crawling upon splinters
father of my infamy
find the faith to continue
in spite of insanity

am I scraping my knees in vain?
what will be worth all this pain?
is there a point to this game?
will it give me a name?

am I drowning or saved by rain?
which is the who not insane?
what is the price of the fame?
a world without blame?
a world without shame?
too wild to tame
but kind
not blind
sensitive
to live and let live
a harmless game
a hopeful frame
what is this world's name?

how can I still believe it is possible
after all I've been through?
after trying all that is possible
what dreams may come, come true

I was a dog put down with a smile
and the promise of love
I know the loss of lifetimes
couched in pretty rhymes

I was an angel descended to torture
universal entity
give me hope to understand
my own humanity
in spite of insanity
or vanity
give me to trust to become
all that I can be
give me the love to rise above
set me free

give me the truth to know the power
still in me

like finding an old friend, the passion reigns, born again, the dormant seed does not know time... whether you search for crime or the sweet sublime... you will find me in rhyme...



STUFF CURRENTLY STIMULATING (OR BORING) THE SENSES
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oddends
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          work,
work, local radio
Flatliner   by Larry Niven
pizza
loves obsessions    wantlist
READ DISCLAIMER    past participles
Gavin Friday

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