There are times when i like taking the late night trains because sometimes you’ll look around and you’ll notice something different than any other time of the day. You see the tenderness in almost everyone around you, they almost wear it on their sleeve. They’re too exhausted by the day, they’ve no place to be on time to, they’re too drunk to give a shit. They’re running through thoughts provoked by the days encounters. You could see it in their eyes, in their posture.

The vulnerability is so comforting, the exhaustion of other humans caused by other humans is so comforting. A nude soul shouldn’t have to be narrowed down to peak during these circumstances but I guess it’s the build up that drives us.

Like the trout swimming upstream.

And I felt it, it was sharp. It hurt and soothed what was more of a mood but see, it is cause I care. I care when I really shouldn’t. I retrospect with much regret and a short limbed woman standing idle side by her opposing shadow hovers above, far from below.

It’s all the same game it’s all the same game they might change their names but it’s all the same game. Apathy over comes one and i stay stilly patiently waiting for my care to come my way. She’s a bitch but a lover, not as confusing when i’m above her but it seldom happens. The little boy ran past the window,He let the balloon float away and now it floats away. I stare and i follow to see it now in it’s foreign state.

Today i met myself at the other end of town. I sat to smoke a cigarette with her. I laughed and then compiled onto her my faults. The after math and the intention. How I’m often lost in comprehension. She smiled at me and called me pathetic then walked away and still…I will miss her.

“humble”

Always expect a humble walk away, a stumble and a fall. I fall with reels of real time body talk. Time played a trick on a sister once more. I figure these things they happen so to learn from, don’t let yourself get jaded. Then again, if that’s ever a problem your just walking dressed and unrelated.

“Daniel, Bobby, Elliott and I”

Situated in the wrong steam, a pointless weightless routine.

Discombobulated thoughts steer towards a meadow of sorts,

down a river rapid wronged past a meadow. of sorts. Where the grass is at least green.

To sort yourself out, girl. You need to sort yourself out. Daniel played the wrong key and

now he’s no longer a star. Just “a symphony man with one fucking note.” Yes, i said note.

Note this down motherfucker, Bobby played you a song. Your a wanderer, go sort yourself out.

So i've noticed people are like different with you. you kind of know me but i've noticed your treated differently, like people are scared of you cause you stand for something? it varies. I saw you cry once saying you didn't think you meant anything. this isn't a question i just wanted to let you know you were wrong. — Asked by Anonymous

<3 thanks

“Little A, Always slips away”

This old lady’s got my back, i’m gonna make that my sunshine. This old lady’s got my back, i’m gonna take that as sunshine. [Sun shine sun shined. sunshine sun shined. [x2]

I’ve got no moon, i got sun shine. I’m gonna take that as a sun rise.

I ain’t got you, i need some time. i’m gonna take that as sun shine. [sunshine. sun shine.]x4

Find me a room, i’ve got some time. Keep me to myself, i got some rhyme. Speak words to myself.

I know cause i gotta. Mom told me that “i ain’t my own momma.”

[sunshined. shunned shined.x2]

Ran away from themselves, I did cause i run’a.

I did sing to myself, i did cause i gotta.

Felt me through his mouth, i kissed cause i thought ‘a. man would show himself. I tripped with that though, oh.

 shunned shined.x4

“to wither”

Lost yet concentrated, that’s just where i find myself. I keep walking around this same block, it’s missing pieces of side walk each time i do rounds. I never walked on them anyway. It is days like these you find the dirt on more than just your feet and when I hear the church bells ring it’s always during night. I know i’m doing things wrong but the thing is, i was never meant to do them right.

[title is too tiny to see]

[Wrote this song the other night. I’m not angry but it looks like i am. Guess i’m just upset.]

Tiny people, tiny people won’t find me.tiny people. oh. tiny people won’t find me, cause they’re so tiny fucking minded. tiny as can be.

tiny people, walking all over me. tiny people. oh. blinder than a fool on speed and there’s so many blinded people. so much i can’t see.

keep on taking different chances, changing my finances. crippling little sisters and finding swollen blisters. raging mother faggots, begotten stolen habits.

tiny people. tiny people say its all for free.

a fickle seed who won’t believe that tiny isn’t me.

I me my

Humans. I think of humans as these squishy blobs lanky motions that motion through their lives. These lives, some short and some long, too long at times but that’s just the human thought. The arrogant the selfish the selfless who like to fuck and like to smile, sometimes even hate it too, then cry and moan and hate our human selves, then swoon and grin and love our fragile states. And then we create things too, a genuine interest a chance to gloat, perhaps unsatisfied with our human self we feel inclined to share with other humans too. The destructive sometimes debatably constructive, who knows when humans will see the end of their human self. 

There are certain things…

There are certain things that make me feel closer to home. And when i say closer to home, i mean closer to childhood. I’ve realized those are the things i love most. The simple sturdy affirmations that you’re still the same physical person you once were and you haven’t let the bullshit cloud you but perfect you. Listening to Chopin, that’s young I long ago, visiting my father’s show room off of Lexington, when he still worked there. One thing was constant, He always had classical music playing and many wood sample veneers stretched from wall to wall. Then you have that bit of Afro-Peruvian folk. Broken toys. Organizing events. Organizing your mind out the window. Talking while chewing your food. Feeling numb. Singing other peoples songs. Heavy bed comforters.

I am missing something but i’m sure i’ll figure that out down the line. All those fuzzy feelings are nostalgia. She really is something of great company sometimes.

Before i attempt to relay a message of labels and associations to previous relations, should you be so kind as to find the right judgement. Fickle as a schizo, an accurate befuddle for words and imagery, one relates and degrades. And face value means nothing to the common man; the jaded present day by stander. All efforts to the floor, please. All efforts to the floor.

“How to walk unbarefoot”

…And you take the two ends, they fold separately. One folds again and the other follows beneath the centerfold and through. You both pull and tighten and you make a tie. You’ve made a tie.

“milestones”

Former friendly figures, plenty nights so tightly bound

Other plans disfigured with the speech that has no sound.

And trees with rotting roots stretched deep in fertile soil

Demand such tasty fruits they said they’d keep before they spoil.