My subconscious rages like dog-eared pages, hanging bent and mostly spent. My confidence is a misplaced comma, a run-on sentence. My eyes are adequate interpreters of their environment, but there is much they don’t see. You look at a crowd of people, and you see faces. Different sizes, different races. Me? I see misery. Anxiety. Corruption. Users.
The world is full of abusers.
The world is also full of allies; there are more of them than you realize. We focus on the ugliness, but there is beauty, too. We focus on fucking up ourselves when we should be fucking you. The ones who hide and dart out for the sick and injured. The alone. They’re the ones to fuck, so be nicer to yourself.
My mind is so alone, tossing pebbles like stones. Woe is me, the poster child of sad epiphanies. Look, man, you do what you can. Cut yourself some slack, some you can’t take back. Look in the mirror, no fear, you need to look past the surface like a seer. Cause, yeah, you’re ugly, we all are. It’s a question of intention, this dimension, oh, and by the way, did I mention…
Fuck you!
Totally bipolar. I have days like that too.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you focus way down, picking out details, even when they’re intangible. You flip the coin, seeing both sides and then look inward; your attention an X-ray that sees everything. This is an intriguing piece with a final twist, the last turn unexpectedly directed at the reader.
DeleteThis is excellent - as your writing always is. Bravo!
This is deep and dark, like a good fishing hole. Not sure of all that is in there, but building off what you see. You created an interesting character, too. Keep going with this guy....Mr V
ReplyDeleteabove is JD
ReplyDeleteYou probably gathered that from the fishing analogy lol
ReplyDelete