westid

it might not seem so, but something’s different. by now i know a bit about what it’s like to turn invisible / vanish in the stone cold light of day, the jury is rigged if you’re expecting some superstitious sense of balance in the universe is going to make so much as one glance your way

my mind takes to the desperation of stamp collecting or magic tricks. wrapping up rubik’s cubes in a matter of moments, any kind of obscure hobby that you could show off to someone that sticks. apart from computers, if i had to choose something else that one can enjoy if they are quick and dexterous with their hands – i would have started and stuck at learning piano

it didn’t matter with the beaudiful people. the only marvel in my heart was the soul of another, and the endless time we could have had together if only we survive the usual honeymoon honkytonk plateau

i’ve never done desperate. i’m no good at it, there really is more to life, it’s never usually the first thing on my agenda. point: i’ll die first, i don’t care. but i won’t die desperate

… and then i notice an aberration. it’s probably nothing to do with me at all, as is the case more recently, but nonetheless i observe. what happens when someone changes? someone who adopted the fleeting role of the shadow, the spectre, unknown whether day or night or both. has sat there listening to my mind tear itself apart. asked me to come but so scared i ran away. now i often ruminate about what could have been illuminated by now, but now it’s too late

i’ve strided through the streets wearing only my emotions. pouring from my eyes the rainbow-tinted tears of a lost soul. looking for someone who could have solved every follow-up question of enigmatic plot twist of mystery…

typical man – taking it all in a way that presumes every part of it is about me. but atypical medium – that would never address you by name

i heard the voice of an omen. it burns me that i don’t know what i was going to hear if only i’d let myself listen instead of running away from the truth. the truth is very frightening, and the simple matter of knowing the truth in the first place is dangerous by its very suggestion

whenever someone stops / for basically no reason i wonder how far behind the eyes of this person could there be absolution. is it destined for me? will my mind miraculously know aberration as the bringer, bearing standard of wisdom / all those who kneel before the altar of the wise things

i’m not saying i have the time or energy expenditure to go through it moment by moment in my head, but it will be worth the combustion of a bright big burning bastard brought alight by the friction to focus & figure it out, just to discover what’s different all of a sudden – empirically speaking