My mind's a template I cannot unfold.

Let us dip our feet for a taste, but not get our bodies wet. You pull in, then pull out of the subject just as easily, just as quickly. Get your feet wet. That’s all. Pull out. Interest. Then flee. No lead. That way, you get a taste of everything. And have the time to do it.

I want to know everything.

Just like drunken thoughts. Or when you cut off your knee caps. You cannot stand up. Drunken thoughts so timid and full of realism. I have never had a drink in my life.


I hardly blink. What a disguise.

...swim

Side note:
Take just about every single opportunity.

“Never frown, because you never know when someone is falling in love with your smile.”

swirl

First thought:
We are human, we are born to be complicated.


And thrust:

Okay let’s begin with something large. We are human, we’re born to be complicated. A brain. No, break it down further. The nervous system, the air, no, no no no, the molecules, the cells, the absence of mind, the gravitation system, the light, the sequence, the rubbing of not our hands together but air in between, the float, the questions amongst deliberate and redundant answers and no where near truthful insight. The killers. The survivors. But aren’t we all killers? Don’t we all die? How is one chosen to live on, through complete sources? How is It done, how is complication simplified, how do we speak, what is speaking, what is what? Where is where? Is sound really traveling? How does it echo in silence? Are we really wrapped tight? Why colors? Who dropped the ‘u’ in ‘favorite’ and who created the fan? Swirling air holes and delinquents. Who invented the loop? Who is who, and why is why? We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know.

We don’t know.

We don’t know. We don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we we we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know.

Is ignorance really bliss? Is it really?

Now say it with me, aloud:
"I don't know."

[thursted, no edits, 1.5 minutes, mind boggled and let on the loose yet inspired by Christopher Higgs]


Sound: syn. wrapped tight.
I don't think like this, I do this on purpose. I know control. I don't bite.

Sounds of the sounds

One person's junk is another person's treasure. This may be true. However, one person's ignorance is another's knowledge. Feed yourself.


Okay, so maybe I didn't go out tonight as my horoscope had insisted I do, although, I've had reluctant yet enjoyable exchanging of words about deep sleep, dreams--OBEs, Astral Projection, Autoscopy, etc, book reviews, scripts and production, Celine Dion, dancing, and burglars. Now if that isn't enough, I don't know what is.


Snail mail has yet captured my soul and left it in the post office. I need more stamps.

I'm not one to follow these accordingly. But you can't blame them, everybody's different.

This time, it hit the bull's eye.

buttermilk and chocolate silk
the dry cleaners charged me for that. Two more days.
more. less. this week is a zest. truly it is.
the plans aren't plans. they are sweets. they are goodies. bitter goodies with no heaves or turns. sweets and beats the crap out of my time.. alone. ouch. it still continues to gurgle. it dfsdjfsdnfkjsdnf.]

back to normal, begins now.
*Reprocessing*

G: Good day.
L: Have a nice one.

Render

If pain is in the mind, then let's stop listening and believing there is such thing. We will be numbed from our emotions undergoing no feeling or sense of self destruct. No paying for the cost. No gripping the "ungrippable," the "grippless." Now, I write to you, reader, because I am distracting myself from feeling this jaw drilled pain. Pain so deep that they had to give me 11 shots to numb my face. It's been 5. It's been 5 days. 7 pieces in, a few replaced, and waiting out for the strong point of delivery to be, well, delivered. Utterly and completely. With not hesitant truth, but with the mere silence of soliloquy. If you have read to this point, I dare you to stop. Stop reading. Distract yourself, just like I'm distracting my emotion. Go on, carry on with your life. You know, if you continue reading, you are bringing me to life. You are in the future from this post text. You are The Future.
I am The Past.

Passed

(passt)

Past.

The Past.

So, come find me, and knock one in lightly. Don't wake them, they don't know what they're listening to. Go on, live dreamlessly in reality. See where it takes you. Because if you don't have an open mind, you have not a clue of injustice of my words and syllabus. Nothing close. Probably just gibberish. If you do, indulge in the meaning of this distraction, that makes one of us.

Below negative

How do we know that we want to get out, get out and see everything else? All but a mere function, a mere spark we each have programmed some place, some place hidden? I think, maybe, we want to travel, we want to see the world, see outside our bubbled boxes.. because we're a little bit naive. In the very best way. Because we don't know. We don't know what's inside of us, thereofre, we want to explore what's outside of us. Because, maybe, just maybe that will help define us. And maybe it doesn't. Or maybe we get inspired, too, moves by all the things around us. I know that's true. We might know it subconsciously. But is what we like to call "inspiration" really recycled, or is it planted from another idea, or literally brought out of this world? I suppose there are very many ways to see this theory, if you'd like to call it that. I'm intrigued. And questioning ourselves. Well, that's just normal. Confusion. Exhale. Cooperation. And a love for moments. That's risk taking. Maybe we won't remember here. Maybe we'll remember it. Or, maybe just ourselves. And maybe it doesn't matter. But we do, I think. We do matter. We feel it. We see it.
We know it.
I know it.

JGL inspired

I think it’s harder to say what you are, what you love. It’s easy to be like, “I suck,” and give up. Giving up is throwing the idea away. It’s obviously harder to define yourself and find your bright areas because right now, we don’t know what the hell we’re doing. Maybe we’re all not doomed. So, why not make the best of it? “There’s a lot of good fun stuff going on. Let’s give it a shot.”

If I could talk about writing so easily, then I wouldn’t have to write.

What happens...
in the architecture of the human mind?
How is it built, what is built, what is destroyed, what is it?

I was born in the winter, therefore, the sun resting it's full rays on me gives me no justice but to be nocturnal.

I squint my eyes in its flashing light. My mother blames the sushi.

sweet&sour

What is beautiful writing?
"You'd never hurt the girl because she stands for more than your life."

"We touch the water with our feet
just a little bit
but never too deep to fall into it
so we can pull out real quick

you can ask me what i know
i'll silently nudge you into nothingness
i'm deeper than the water you touched
you'll have to save me from my drowning thoughts

with you, i will float."

I left my window open and this is all that flew into it, over a spree of five hours. I'd type. Minimize. Type. And change the sequence of things.

And he wrote,

Perfect.

Extraordinary

Time heals everything.
You know, lovely days that forget all your thoughts and just bring you to balance? Those are the once in a while times where everything meets at a certain point to make sense. It's a new start from here, a better view, and an extra high for life.


Leave your coffee cups behind, but bring your running shoes. We're on a go.
It all makes sense from here!


Long drives with deep indulging conversations, yet light hearts, have a perfect note on a smashing night.


Now is the time to indulge, now is the time to explore. I'm done with summer school, the break is on. It's all mellow from here. All I can picture doing is visiting museums, working out, and random things. Having a nice touch, the right time. The exposition of others, the natural desire to be patient, to be here. To live life in the moment, to enjoy it, and let it go from there.


It doesn't have to click, it flows.
Are you ready?

Right now, for me.

Fact>opinion.

I prefer.

Lightly, though. Don't acknowledge yourself.

They say, "keep calm and carry on" when all I want to do is quit.

You know, that calming feeling you get when you know these people have your back? It makes me think, this is "family" whether you're legally related or not. End of discussion. They are the ones who keep you grounded, keep you going whether they back you up on reckless life decisions or a stupid indecisive moment on something that doesn't... that won't affect your life at the end of the day. They don't understand what goes up in your mind, through it, caged in, or what isn't up there, and they still got you.
I don't mind being alone. I actually prefer it. I mean, I enjoy doing my own thing. I'm a "keep to yourself" kind of company.
She hoveled me with questions, two after three, one more, tension arose. I understand. She thinks of me as "pacing, mysterious." I guess we don't always want to be in the spotlight, the life of every party, if you will.
I felt like I was a bug, thrown under a microscope and examined, trying to get into my head by an alien creature. Trying to figure me out, when every remark at a cold morning like this, just jumped into a deeper misunderstanding. A new hole, every time. Forgive me for being over emotional, but I wanted to hold it all in, hold my breathe until a breeze came by so I can disconnect myself from these words. To let go. I wasn't fully myself. I was a bit off-guard and mis-figured... out.
Out of this world. Out of my head, into another's and I almost felt dead. This wasn't my first time.


Spending what you feel like is too much, take a step back and let it go for a little while. Until you have some space. Distract yourself. Getting close, close to someone is not as easy for me anymore when they think you aren't what they want. I'm changing right now, this is my process. This is my documentation. This is just me going through a difficult time with my path in life, even though I know it will end sweeter than I imagine.
I hope you understand, that as much as I am addicted to you, it's a poison for me. I'm still learning to cope.
I can't say how I feel about you now, because when I speak, it's bumper-sticker talk, Aristotle quotes and my own theories and experiences. When I write, I can tell you exactly how I feel, even if all you gotta do is read along. Sadly. I'll get there. And I'll accept my changing, as you will too, because everyone does.
I don't know what I want. I don't know what I have. I know that I have motivation and focus, but would possibly need it more often than how often I use it. Confidence? I've already got that.
Just feel like when I bring in a new soul, it changes me more than I believe, right between the lines, and all I ever wanted to do was move you. 
I must say, when I heard my boy on the radio today, as I was shopping distractedly, I dropped everything and felt safe again. Right again, untroubled again, and that took me through the night.


She said I'm too complicated, too messed up. I laugh to myself, a light, worried laugh. The way I see it, I'm simple. You just have your own pair of eyes. Stick 'em to your lens.

the perfect note

{Before I begin, excuse the jotted down fragments of note taking rather than not-very-well-worded structures. Who cares when you're feeling free? Who has time to think about feeling, when you're supposed to be feeling without thought. It's not supposed to be understood}

I get the chills and I want to cry. It’s so beautiful. Up my spine. I close my eyes. I feel like im on a cloud, breathing fresh high altitude air. No one can see me. No one. Soaked by the beauty of sound, the beauty of sound. It. Or in some warming part of a film, a collage, driving home on a gloomy day from the hills, loving life again, dreaming, pretty things, my old soul.

I love the way the light reflects off his chello, most.

Fill me up like a cup, pour your sounds, and in result-I overflow with aspiring ideas. This is my happy place.

Music for my soul. To my soul.

The way I see it- if you dream, you're human; if you believe in them, you're super human.

365/6

Some say they want to travel the world, I want to travel humans.
When I get a sparking idea, I don't turn off the spark. I turn off the light.
I think best in the dark. In the shadows, in your shadows. In the breeze.


I have a goal for every day.
Now's the time to shine.
Every day.
Every, day.