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| pray for us all pray for us all pray for us all pray for us all pray for us all.
i'm going to be going away. maybe forever. | | |
| i was told i have paranoid schitzophrenia yesterday. normally, i'd brush it off. but it's pretty tough when your psychiatrist says it. | | |
| End of all things (in filtering through papers and daylight)
by Adam Dunigan
In sifting and filtering and looking for the
Correct words (that is to say that words can be correct and are not those
blades that they so often act) darkness resides in the creases and
Caves made by the folding and overlapping of innumerable
Scraps of paper (this is the darkest crease and the deepest fold)
but they all catch fire and one would not think that so much darkness (the darkness that is given, like death and day) would be the result of such light (light hearted and light minded all turn to black)
as the papers (the world life the greatest demon of them all) burn
Screams from letters and periods and apostrophes (all assuming that their lives
Are the most important of all)
And as the ink and staples and paperclips hit the floor (the world is burning beneath words undying) the darkness (the given darkness that accompanies silence) will
Swallow all that is not given
Words will fall down, never to be heard (or seen or given or taken) again
The papers (assuming life and daylight are not given at all) taken for granted
so long will fall silent and blackened (that which does not burn will burn in time) as
everything burns (fades) away
all will be given | | |
| This world is a burden
And it disgusts me.
I want to deny it,
Its inhabitants and their possessions.
I’m embarrassed to know
This soil produced me.
I’m dying to be elsewhere,
Trying not to belong in a nature
Of impulse and self indulgence.
A brother to none,
my kinship lies elsewhere.
I am separate and loyal to no one,
If born from this soil.
I’m embarrassed to know you;
you do not represent me.
a likeness only in structure,
Not in mind.
I vow to never belong to anyone
Born from this soil
A people that follows blindly
Will not reprimand me. | | |
| there were countless hours on the telephone, my ears were ringing from the dial tone. there were flashing lights, and people staring. there was nothing i could ever do. | | |
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