Tuesday, April 25, 2006

i drink at least 2 litres of H20 a day. and i pee a lot.



the most frightening beast...mosquito larvae

the library is open 24 hours now which means i shall never sleep again.

my soul feels stagnant and i know i need to be on the move again.
exactly one year ago i hugged my knees as the european seatide hugged the cliffs that were my throne
and never since have i felt so happily alone.
i defy my own astrology-
to sit is to drown.
here the seasons sputter like a cracked muffler
and the tree, the winter's dowager, wears on her antiqued body a hat for a special occasion

i can't stop chewing ice.

it's cold and rainy.
it's almost may, why?
i graduate in 24 days.
i think i just need to know what the hell i will be doing when i'm done.
i want to roam the earth.


i wish i could see myself in my concentrated form
without dilutions
lying in the grass is always a good place to start
i see reflections of passing clouds in a rain-pond that will
soon be bubbling with mosquito larvae.
(have you ever seen mosquito larvae? everyone should, and i will make you because it's the closest thing i have seen to the image of satan).
it is one of those moments where my skull opens a bit and thoughts start to spill into the universe but i don't have an audience right now and don't really want one.
quite remarkable the shift in social order when you know you have too many goodbye hugs to give.
goodbyes are my least favourite thing on the planet. in fact, vomit accompanied the last one.
this mind is dark
this mind is cracked and glued
this mind needs a respite
there is too much to say to ever stop saying
i want to take a hit for the world,
we, being in this shithole together
this ancient garden at its time of efflorescence
this beautiful cesspool of organic matter
blooming and dying
blooming and dying
blooming and crying
crying and blooming
all the shit and piss and vomit and the landscaped lawns
and indeginous forests
all swept up in the rapids of the stream
all going somewhere
and you can ride it if you want
but you're gonna need yourself a boat that doesn't leak
and sometimes you'll find yourself trapped in a bundle of flowers
roses and carnations
lillies lilacs impatients forget-me-nots
and for a moment as the current swirls your boat around you're
taken aback by the truth, the horror, the glory, the magnificance of it all
and if you're lucky, it won't be raining, and you can stay there awhile
floating, dreaming.
and you can take off the mask and the goggles and sense what's meant to be sensed
before the rapids wash you somewhere else somewhere deep dirty dark.
and on that horizon you will see the sea
ancient vast and made up of millions of years of tears
there you can anchor
there you can search the lifeboats for all you've lost
and if you're lucky, you'll be the most lost of all, and a spotlight will catch some distant twinkle in your gaze, and someone will be most happy to find you.

2 Comments:

Blogger gcr said...

1. A way with words.
2. Bug pictures Scott and I took his last night in America.
3. 24 hour library openness.

3:11 AM  
Blogger Scott Thomas said...

my current reality is a cold european spring morning broke and hungry the way american kids SHOULD be in Europe...you wrote your post like your hand vomited after eating a Van Gogh...your brain is glittery and sweet...i think i should very much like to hold your hand somewhere far away and look at the moon and it will be huge and bloody and i will think to myself 'yes, we are very far away'

5:41 AM  

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