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Zen Is When You Open Your Eyes to Life ~ Monday, June 29, 2026

In Dark, Dark Room Number Thirteen, I Found Is the first day of the rest of your life nothing like what you expected, you wake decidedly early, as if it all actually mattered much too much, strife remains struggle until you overcome killing yourself slowly, this life will shake demons out from under your bed, you fall and hit your head but you are still alive really, what do you want to do, how dumb killing yourself becomes, work is okay really but not, what do you want to do one shot, this life, with nothing left to say only one thing to do, to stick like glue maybe is good, but no, move on, and thrive not just survive, work until you are dead unless that is what you want, how - insane maybe you drank the water and Kool-Aid burn in hell, a metaphor in your head each lie you soaked up, you vomit, expel really, is it now time to use a cane this life is short but sweet, you made the grade how much better do you want to appear in this world, you get to work, or tra...
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Catastrophic Thinking ~ Sunday, June 28, 2026

How not to catastrophize the real world Heavens to Betsy, how quaint and polite of course, blasphemy is an utterance witness to what is supernatural naysayers set the flag of truth alight of course, this is all politics, conflict tragedy is everywhere, still we dance to celebrate my birthday, natural of course, to people who celebrate Pride catastrophes of mind, I must restrict and redirect, channel the negative taste what is otherwise, a different bent a flavor to seek out, as positive still, we dance and sing as children once sent to bed, say our prayers out loud, hide inside rationalize as adults how others of course, choose ignorance, hatred and greed phantoms that follow me inside my mind how not to catastrophize, my brothers in the real world, everything seems like hell zebras see only black and white, a creed everything is multicolored, the blind thematically metaphorical, sense how what is different, we rely on smell each deals with their disappointment ...
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Mythology Expects Knowledge to Grow ~ Sunday, June 28, 2026

She slept on the idea of yesterday Sleep is a habit-forming drug of choice however, when I cannot sleep, the muse elicits words from a dark place, from dreams selective hearing allows for one voice left from the cacophony of noises embrace the voice within that nightmares choose perhaps they dream of work, of voiceless screams tomorrow I awaken as today on my birthday, life full of surprises nothing lasts as long as a dead friend, dear thankfully, I am not homicidal however, imagination, I fear elicits strategies of a bridal interference plan, jilted, as they say despite the longing for love, desire ends up channeled with suppressed emotions action is decisive when repeated only sati, a bride on the pyre forms societal expectations cast yes, on the idea that love like oceans embodies the force of arms defeated successfully by hungry ghosts, by thoughts turned by a lathe, ancient as the Near East except poison from a well cannot sit remembering how still it mus...
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Golden Dreams: History in the Making ~ Sunday, June 28, 2026

I slept on the idea of yesterday sleep as a habit-forming drug of choice leaps out of bed like a child and runs fast everywhere all at once, what can I say practice makes the imperfections perfect the act of running born without a voice objectively, I know this cannot last nothing lasts forever like a dead friend theatrical as a mime, I detect how conspiracy makes a suicide evidently, an inevitable idea, when men gather for regicide despite how work is unenviable except when the means justify the end antithetical to the ends themselves obstructing justice to make history for to justify the means makes our lives yes, misshapen as books upon warped shelves everyone knows that content can be warped save the perspective of a love story tomorrow, no one knows how sharpened knives exacerbate a situation born realistically, from well-planned, mapped out designs to conform to ideas of right and wrong and make decisions out of dreams yes, tomorrow is a dream formed at n...
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Just Stay Away and Mind My Own Business ~ Saturday, June 27, 2026

I have to go home now and shoot myself however, if I wait for tomorrow as it is my birthday, I could just wait veritably another year, the shelf everyone sees, full of books, I read tormented by the past, full of sorrow obliged to speak well of the dead, they bait generously, to watch a poet write old wives tell tales, old men would rather bleed honestly, than listen to the stories old women tell about how bad men are maybe if I listen to the worries empty-headed fools offer me so far nothing more disagreeable, despite old men and women who cannot agree wonders never cease, is this but a game as you can see, all opinions matter not a lick to anyone but themselves decide that life is worth living, a shame shatter a mirror, seven years bad luck how mindless to walk the earth and not see ordinary people, sparrows chatter ordinary people, full of conceit tragic to live in this world, on the shelves monstrous icons of bygone days, I suck yes, on the nipple of pointl...
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Irreparably Destroyed Beyond All Hope ~ Saturday, June 27, 2026

For a long time, I went to bed early. ~ Swann's Way, Combray by Marcel Proust, translated by Lydia Davis (Penguin, 2002) Fuck waking up ever again to this obscene reality, obscenities really fly to witness birds on fire absolutely horrifying, to kiss loneliness goodbye and embrace monsters objective institutions in cities neglected by ghosts, full of desire genuine authenticity, a lie terrible to seek sorrow, nothing stirs introverts from slumber in beds of rust melded to metal posts of stainless steel enveloped in nightmares and dreams of dust I beg your forgiveness, these words, I feel I must repeat this art until I die welcome to this practice, I cannot share even to imagine killing a tree not for one moment, no, egos profound to wake up to this world, I do not care tragedy everywhere and all the time obey the rules, boys and girls, and agree bitterly to disagree with unsound eternally youthful and naive minds drive into a wall, or stop on a dime everyo...
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This Is Not a Love Song ~ Thursday, June 25, 2026

One of my greatest concerns is money not unlike you, unless you are dying everyone is dying slowly but some of us are dying quickly, the funny funny thing about dying is death itself money on the table, are you crying yes, I know, no one talks, we are all dumb given that we cannot feel the sorrow religion centered around grief, the shelf empty of books on how to deal with death answers found in others, they take a year to grieve the loss of a parent, this breath eternal changes over time, the fear sits on a stool nearby as to borrow the proverbial cup of white sugar covered in blood, a horror film, how strange only our fears personified become quite real no one waits beside a pressure cooker cooking up vegetables in a hurry everyone notices the dog with mange no one thinks to care allows us to feel still, so few become veterinarians in this world, we rush to taste the curry spice adds to the variety of choice maybe to care for others, their dying only lets us s...
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